Grace
by stripeypirate
Summary: Teen AU- Cas is a patient in a mental hospital where Dean is sentenced to community service.
1. Chapter 1

Grace

The boy with the blue eyes stares out the window, watching the stars hanging heavily in the sky. He does this most nights, since sleep is not something that comes easily to him. He hears the door open with a soft _snick _and turns into the glare of a flashlight. "Bed checks" whispers a disembodied voice from behind the brightness. Emily, judging by the tone and timbre. She was always quieter than Maryanne anyways, whose heels clicked against the floor and echoed throughout the building. He senses her pausing, noticing him crouched on the windowsill. "Get some sleep, Cas." He shakes his head, and Emily sighs just as she always does; turning and shutting the door behind her in one fluid motion. Meanwhile, the boy with the blue eyes again faces the window, feeling his wings creaking silently beside him as he moves.

Cas is standing in the corridor that leads to the nurse's station. Here he can keep an eye on the entire floor by peeking around the corner. Rachel is manning the desk this morning. From her position she can survey each and every one of the hallways that branches off from the main room, even the elevator. Today she is talking to Roy, the day janitor. From many days of observation, Cas has learned that they are "together". Sometimes they would kiss and Roy would slip his hand under Rachel's shirt when he thought no one was looking. Cas could sense that Rachel felt sad when Roy did that, but he couldn't explain why. He thought that maybe he should let Dr. Barnes know, but he quickly discarded the idea. Once he told Dr. Barns that Rachel and Roy would never see him because he was invisible, but all he did was frown and scribble some notes on his big yellow notepad.

The ancient elevator door rattled open, interrupting Cas' musings. A burly policeman stepped out, hauling a lanky, spikey-haired boy in a leather jacket behind him. Rachel quickly straightened her uniform and Roy gave the policeman a once-over before ambling back to his mop. "Um, I didn't hear we were getting a new admission today," Rachel muttered nervously, flipping through a stack of papers. The policeman opened his mouth to speak but the boy answered for him, casually worming out from under his grasp. "You think I'm a crazy, sweetheart? I'm hurt," he remarked, a look of false indignation on his face. Rachel sighed, "Community service then?" The boy winked at her. "Where do I start?" She pulled yet another form out of a manila envelope and handed it to him along with a clipboard and pencil. "Fill these out and take them down the hall to the director. He'll get you set up." The boy grabbed the clipboard and strolled off down the corridor, throwing Cas a jaunty wave as he passed. "Punk" the policeman rolled his eyes. "Did you know we caught him _digging up a corpse_?" Rachel raised her eyebrows "they always send us the best ones." The policeman chuckled along with her before tipping his cap and heading for the door. "Good luck," he called over his shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Sorry for another short chapter! I didn't want to stretch this one out since I feel like I reached a natural stopping place. Things will start to pick up in a week or so, after finals are over.

* * *

Cas decided to follow the strange boy down the hall, mildly surprised that he had been seen. The boy was leaning against the counter, clearly exasperated with the admissions procedures. Cas could understand why; the director's personal secretary, Mrs. Beaumont was half-blind and a little bit deaf. He knew however that the director would _never_ fire her because she was the director's own sister, and the director was afraid of her living all by herself with no work. After her husband had died, she hadn't had anyone to support her. Not to mention she had "let herself go". Not that anybody else knew, they all just complained and joked that the director had "the hots" for that "old bat". Cas did not quite understand why they called her that. With her giant glasses and puffy, powdered face, she looked much more like an owl. At the moment she was squinting very hard at the clipboard the boy had handed her.

"DEAN," he was yelling, "IT SAYS 'DEAN' NOT 'SEAN'. MY NAME IS DEAN WINCHESTER. A 'D' DOESN'T EVEN LOOK LIKE AN 'S' FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!"

Mrs. Beaumont nodded sagely, "Yes Sean, I heard you the first time." She held up her hand as Dean began to interrupt, "as soon as Mr. Kirtell gets back from lunch, he can show you around the place." She smiled sweetly as Dean let out a massive sigh of exasperation. Cas tuned them out as they went back to their arguing. Slowly, he padded up behind Dean-not-Sean, taking extreme care not to make a sound. He focused all of his attention on staying invisible.

"Now like I've said before, why don't you run along until Mr. Kirtell returns," Mrs. Beaumont finished, flapping her hands at Dean like he was some sort of annoying bird she wished to shoo away.

"Alright fine," growled Dean, clearly fed up with the entire process. "But where am I supposed to g- JESUS! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU STANDING THERE FOR?!" As he had turned to leave, Dean found himself suddenly inches from Cas' face. Cas blinked slowly, confused.

"You can see me?"

"Uhh yeah. Dude, you're sort of in my bubble." Dean reached both hands up and took a tentative step back. Cas merely stepped forward, squinting at Dean's face. "Look, man," Dean gave Cas a slight push, "I like my personal space, ok? I don't know if this is some sort of crazy-people thing or what, but I feel like you're smothering me here."

"Sorry," Cas mumbled, "I just don't understand. I should have been invisible."

Dean choked back a laugh. "Oh really? And why is that?"

They were interrupted by Rachel, who came clicking sternly down the hall. "Cas," she called out, "you're late for art therapy. Doctor Wienburg is wondering where you are." Cas turned abruptly and slunk off down the hallway, giving Dean one last puzzled look. "Don't mind him," Rachel told Dean, "he's pretty harmless."

"He scared the crap out of me," Dean replied with a grin. He shook his head slowly, "where do you find these kinds of people anyways?"

"Well, Cas here was discovered standing naked on the steps of City Hall, mumbling about how he was an angel of the lord. We still have no idea who his parents are. Wherever he came from, no one's looking for him."

"Is that so?" Dean stared pensively at Cas' retreating back. He felt something that might have been sorrow stirring in his chest for the unusual boy.


	3. Chapter 3

Art therapy was always Cas' favorite. He found the rhythmic motion of brushstrokes and gentle whisper of paint on paper relaxing. The act of creating something out of simple pigments made him feel closer to home somehow. Cas preferred to stand by the window, where he could feel the warm sun on his face and stare up at the sky, despite the bars obscuring his vision. Today was cloudy however, so he chose an easel close to Doctor Wienburg as an apology for his tardiness. The aging therapist was a kindly man, with eyes that crinkled at the edges when he smiled. As Cas settled into his routine of setting up his paints and brushes he felt a familiar peace wash over him. Slowly, he closed his eyes, inhaling the pungent smell of turpentine. With the first stroke, he sensed the world begin to dissolve around him. Cas tried to contain his excitement, for he eagerly anticipated the next step. He knew he had to control his emotions though, or it would remain just out of sight, a smudge in his peripheral vision. With a sudden exhale Cas allowed himself to get lost within some hidden, half-buried corridor in his mind. Soft white light floated across his vision. Unknowingly, a tuneless, sonorous hum burst from his throat. Eyes still closed, Cas increased his speed. Paint flew in all directions, spurred by his furious brushstrokes. He could feel it know, the familiar tingle that raced up and down his spine. It vibrated deep within his body and somehow Cas knew he was home, or at least the vestiges of it that still clung to his consciousness.

_Castiel. _Cas' head jerked back as if he'd been struck. He looked wildly around the room, searching for the source of the sound.

"What's wrong, Cas?" Doctor Wienburg was at his side, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Cas continued to scan the room, breathing hard as if he had just run several miles. "I know that the art therapy helps you find your center, but perhaps we've done enough for today. The act of creation can sometimes awaken feelings inside of us that are painful and difficult to deal with. Would you like to tell me about what you just experienced?" Cas merely stared at him coldly. He turned, and with sudden violence overturned the easel, sending paint cascading across the floor. Then he walked dazedly out of the room, leaving a stunned Doctor Wienburg in his wake.

* * *

Dean opened the door of the latest shithole he had to call home, wincing at the loud creak. Sam's eyes instantly flicked up from the book he'd been reading. He'd been sitting at the rickety table in what you would have to call the living room, waiting.

"Dad's not back yet," he said, as if reading Dean's mind. "Where were you?" His tone was suspicious and more than a little accusing. "Don't tell me you got busted trying to dig up that stupid bone Dad wanted."

"Got off with community service," Dean grinned proudly. "Heh, suckers. And then I went out and got hammered to celebrate." He opened the mildewed fridge and rummaged around for another beer.

"You're not going to be seventeen forever," Sam said archly. "In a few months they'll be able to put you in prison."

God he was sassy for a thirteen year old. "Go back to your books, nerd. Even if they did catch me, they'd never be able to hold me. I'd escape just like dad did in Pittsburgh." Dean lowered his voice, "not a word of this community service crap to dad, you hear? He has his own stuff to deal with right now and I don't want to be putting any more on him. Hell, I might even finish my hours before he gets home." Sam nodded solemnly in agreement, pretending to go along with Dean's excuse. They both knew the real reason Dean was concealing the truth was because John Winchester was not the type of man who took mistakes lightly, and Dean would rather die than be seen as a failure in his father's eyes.

"I got Dad's stupid friggin' bone, too." Dean reached into the waistband of his pants, pulled out a dusty white humerus and set it on the table with a _thunk_.

Sam raised an eyebrow, "Please tell me you didn't walk around with it like that all day."

Dean grinned cheekily in response. "Can you believe they never patted me down at the station? I'm telling you man, this town…" Sam started to laugh. He figured his brother had stashed the bone somewhere before he got caught, probably gave the police one helluva chase before they caught him, too. Usually Sam was annoyed by Dean's wacky stories but he needed to be cheered up tonight. There was something that had been weighing on his mind all day…

"Look Dean, I'm getting really worried about Dad." His older brother immediately held up a hand to stop him.

"He's fine Sammy, and you know it. He's been gone for longer than this before, and-"

"But he hasn't called or sent one of his buddies by or anything!" Sam exploded, "and he said that this job was too was too dangerous. He didn't even take YOU with him."

"That's cuz he left me behind to protect your sorry ass," Dean replied, winking. Sam wasn't deterred, however.

"This is serious Dean. What're we gonna do if something happens to Dad?"

"Don't think like that Sammy. Dad always comes back eventually. There's nothing for you to worry about," Dean answered stonily. "Hey, wasn't he hunting a demon or something? What the hell does he need this bone for? It's pretty fresh too."

Sam knew Dean was trying to change the subject, but he decided to drop it. His brother was starting to get that dark look in his eyes that meant he was seriously pissed off. The topic of John Winchester was not up for discussion any longer. Sam was too tired and anxious to get in another screaming match this time. Besides, he was eager to show Dean what he knew.

"Well, human hand bones are usually used to bring luck to gamblers. Anything involving the hands, really. But the humerus is an arm bone, so I don't think it really counts. Plus, dad doesn't exactly need help gambling, does he?" Dean grinned and nodded at him to continue. "Then I remembered that some soothsayers used to put human bones on the fire and read the cracks in them and used what they saw in the cracks to tell your fortune. So maybe Dad's going to use the bone to try and find out where the demon is hiding?"

"Atta boy!" Dean reached over to ruffle his little brother's hair, but Sam ducked out of the way with a mischievous smirk.

"Now who's the nerd?" He taunted, squirming out of his chair and heading off to their shared bedroom.

"Shut up! Where're you going, anyways? It's friggin' ten o'clock."

Sam paused in the doorway, stiffening. "School. Y'know that place with the books in it?" He turned to glare at Dean before slamming the door behind him. Dean groaned inwardly. He'd forgotten that Sam was still mad at him for dropping out. He knew his little brother had a tough time at school, especially now that he wasn't there to protect him. _But Dad needs me here_, Dean thought resolutely, _Sam just doesn't realize yet that he's going to have to make these kinds of sacrifices in a few years_. _That's just what hunters do. _


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Another chapter completed! I try to get these up as fast as I can, but I'm a bit of a perfectionist and I insist that AT LEAST one other person reads it over before I post. That being said, I was wondering if you guys would prefer shorter but more frequent chapters, or longer ones that might take awhile to update? I have lots of free time at the moment, but when next semester rolls around that won't be the case. Anyways, thank you so much for your feedback! I'd also like to give a shout-out to my unofficial Betas, Mikey and Rachel, who put up with my constant e-mails and pestering. And now, without further ado: Chapter Four.

* * *

"Now I'd like you to tell me what happened in art therapy earlier today," Doctor Kirtell intoned soothingly. "Word has it you gave Doctor Wienburg quite a scare."

"Someone said my name." Well not _said _per se, he had _felt_ the voice calling him deep within his bones. Cas stared resolutely at the ceiling. The bigwig at the institution had deigned to make a bedside visit. This was not a good sign. After the morning's incident, Cas had stumbled back to his room, sweaty and shaking. He felt that he had somewhere important to be, something he was supposed to be doing but he hadn't the foggiest idea what. Instead, he had lain down and refused to move, even when Rachel had asked him very nicely.

"Have you heard voices before, Cas? Have they told you to do anything?"

"I didn't _hear_ anything," he began, but it was too difficult to explain. Cas clammed up and resumed staring at the ceiling, following a spidery crack as it wound its way across the room. Doctor Kirtell nodded as if he understood and pressed the tips of his fingers together, forming a steeple.

"I think perhaps we need to adjust your medications again. These visual hallucinations indicate a worsening of your condition. And I've heard from the nurses that your delusions haven't been improving."

Cas merely glared at him. He was tired of explaining that he honestly didn't know who he was or where he came from and that the only logical explanation was that he was an angel, somehow lost from home. How else could he explain his hunches, how he instinctively knew things about people that even they themselves didn't care to admit, or how he didn't sleep? Meanwhile, Doctor Kirtell was straightening his tie and packing away his clipboard in a snug little briefcase. Cas could tell he was already thinking about what he wanted to have for lunch.

"I'll be in to check on you tomorrow. You can take it easy for now, but I want you back to your regular activities when I return." Cas responded with a grunt and rolled over on his side, waiting impatiently for the door to click shut behind him.

* * *

The next morning, after Sam had left for school, Dean put on his required hospital uniform with a resigned sigh. His tousle-haired reflection stared back at him from the dusty motel mirror. _Wow, the ladies really won't be able to keep their hands off me in this getup,_ he thought sarcastically. Dean figured that rumpled, pea-soup green cotton would probably be an exception to the whole "chicks dig guys in uniform" thing . He supposed the hospital wanted to humiliate its volunteers/ press-ganged forces as much as possible. In fact, the whole concept of wearing a uniform bothered him. He was Dean Winchester for Christ's sake, not some mindless drone. _Give me a leather jacket and boots any day, not some pansy-assed outfit._ He decided to wear the necklace Sam had given him for Christmas forever-ago as an act of defiance. Not that he would ever take it off in the first place, but it made him feel better to know that he was sticking it to the man in doing so. He fingered the charm absentmindedly, thinking back to the fight he and Sam had had the night before. Judging by the way Sam had stomped about the hotel that morning, his brother wasn't exactly ready to forgive and forget.

Dean took one last look around the room: salt lines? Check. Devils traps under the rugs in both the living area and bedroom? Check. Protective charm above the door? Check. Dean felt himself swell with pride just a little. When John Winchester came back, he would find his territory well defended. Dean checked the message machine one last time before he left, just in case, but there was no word from his father. Dean locked everything up securely and left a note on the table from Sam telling him to pick up some more milk and cereal for dinner, trying to brush away the unspoken anxiety that his brother was on to something.

* * *

Sam rarely bothered making friends anymore. His "new kid" status was finally starting to wear off, but he knew that in a few weeks' time he'd be uprooted and left to start the whole process again. Sam never understood how the lack of permanence hadn't seemed to bother Dean. His older brother could smile and crack jokes, garner a "bad boy" reputation and possibly a girlfriend within a week before dropping it at a moment's notice without a fuss.

Motel rooms and sticky backseat of the Impala were the only homes Sam had ever experienced. He idly wondered what it would be like to live in a real house, without musty smelling sheets or strange noises filtering in through thin walls. Maybe one day he would. Now that he was finally in high school, the prospect of college didn't seem so horrendously far away. He might even be able to take extra classes over the summer and graduate early! But Sam's stomach dropped when he imagined delivering his news to his father. He could practically see John Winchester's face contorting with anger, yelling about how worthless Sam was, how he didn't understand the meaning of family, how he'd never wanted another son. _You're the reason we have to live like this in the first place._

John and Dean had assured his him countless times that his mother's death was in no way his fault, but in his darkest moments Sam couldn't help but entertain the possibility. He felt guilty for not remembering her, as if maybe that would fuel his hunter's nature and let him participate in the bond his father and older brother shared. For the umpteenth time, Sam thought about how maybe he just didn't belong in this type of lifestyle, in this family.

Sam's inner musings were cruelly interrupted by a varsity-jacketed senior elbowing him in the side. The unexpected force send Sam skidding into a bank of lockers, his breath leaving his body with a harsh _whoosh_.

"Sorry," the older boy smirked. "I didn't see you there."

No one would have dared pull that sort of stunt when Dean was around. Not unless they wanted a broken nose. As much as he disapproved of Dean's flagrant disregard for authority, Sam had always depended on his brother's bravado and strength to protect him.

Sam fought to keep control over his quickly rising temper. He was sick of being small, sick of being young and sick of being ignored. He had an overwhelming urge to make this asshole pay. Sam's eyes quickly scanned him, picking out all his weak points: nose, throat, solar plexus, groin, back of the knees, instep. Sure the other kid had the upper hand when it came to size and muscle mass, but Sam was fast and knew how to make his punches count. Fighting was, unfortunately, a major part of his everyday life. He was a Winchester after all.

The senior was watching him, that smug smirk still lingering on his face. It was clear he'd already sized Sam up and discarded him as a threat. Sam was itching to prove him wrong with every fiber in his being, but he knew a fight would mean detention at the very least, and someone would most definitely want to talk with his father. A sudden fear gripped Sam. _They would take us away. I might get separated from Dean. Dad could even get arrested, if they ever found him._

Slowly, he turned away heat rising in his cheeks and crawling up the back of his neck. Sam inhaled slowly, trying to ignore the derisive chuckles behind him, trying to focus on what was really important here. Dean was always telling him to trust his gut, and his gut was saying that something was seriously wrong with Dad. Sam decided he needed to help the best way he knew how. A trip to the library was in order, but not before he smashed his knuckles violently into the nearest wall.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey Spaceboy! You got something to ask me, or are you just gonna follow me around all day?"

Cas flinched, his eyes widening in surprise. Dean chuckled as he pushed the mop lazily back and forth across the worn linoleum. "What, do you think you're the Invisible Woman or something? I mean let me tell you, there are some real wackos in this joint," Dean twirled his finger around his ear for emphasis, "so if that's you're thing or whatever…"

"I'm not crazy," came the steady reply. Cas' eyes were hooded and he refused to look at Dean head-on.

"Oh really?" Dean was scrutinizing him now, his head cocked to one side, "and how exactly is that? Last I heard, normal people don't walk around claiming to have superpowers."

"I'm not a superhero Dean, I'm an angel."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Gotcha. You're one of those religious crazies. Between you and me, you guys are onto something with the whole demon deal," he grinned humorlessly. Dean inched the bucket forward a few inches, his head bowed as tried to prevent its contents from sloshing over the sides of the pail. When he looked back up, Cas was standing right in front of him. In fact, he was leaning forward, so close that Dean could practically count the faint, bloodshot veins in his eyes. The sour, institutionalized scent of sweat and cheap soap clung to him like the thin white cotton uniform that identified him as a patient.

"You're worried about your father," Cas murmured huskily, as Dean stood paralyzed by the boy's piercing gaze. "You think that maybe your brother is right, but you're too proud to admit it."

Cas took a step back, a small smile of satisfaction playing on his lips. Dean was breathing heavily now, "So you think this is funny, messing with my head? Playing fucking _mind games_ with me_?_ God, you really are a psycho." He turned violently and stalked off, the mop shaking in his hands. "You're completely wrong by the way," he spat over his shoulder, leaving Cas standing forlornly in front of a puddle of soapy water.

* * *

The conversation had not gone at all the way Cas had anticipated it. His brow furrowed as he watched Dean's retreating back, the one person he had thought might listen to him was walking away, perhaps forever. Deep, half-buried feelings of abandonment and terror swept over Cas with an intensity that took his breath away. He was certain that something was very, very wrong. With him. With this town. But he was also equally certain that the troubled boy could help him. Driven by an urgency he could not explain, Cas scooped up the bucket that Dean had left behind in his rage.

"Wait!" He cried, panting as rushed to catch up. He hated the desperation in his voice, the raw vulnerability that was so unlike him. "Please, I did not mean to offend you. I only- I thought you might listen to me," and then, almost timidly, "From what I can tell, you've seen some pretty bizarre things yourself. Things that other people would never believe." He held the bucket out in front of him like some sort of peace offering.

Dean sighed and grudgingly took the handle. The anger in his eyes had faded to an unreadable emotion that Cas was unable to decipher. "Look man, you were right, ok? That's why I got all freaked out, and I'm sorry. But-" he paused, "I dunno, angels? Seems pretty far-fetched even for me. Besides, have you noticed where you are?" he gestured at the walls around him. "People say all kinds of crazy shit."

Cas grabbed Dean's forearm. "I. Don't. Belong. Here," he ground out, as Dean squirmed uncomfortably in his vise-like grip.

Dean looked down, trying to escape the eyes drilling into him. The strange boy was begging, _pleading_ for help. What would John Winchester do? Dean shook his head; _Angel Boy'd probably be knocked on his ass right now. _His father was not a praying man, nor did he have much patience for religious types, with Pastor Jim being the exception. _Still, he'd at least look into it right? _Dean reasoned. _I mean, all that freaky crap back there with him knowing what I was thinking, that's worth checking out for sure. _Dad had dragged them across the country for less, after all. "Alright," he mumbled finally. "I'll see what I can do. No promises though. When I can prove you're a nutcase you've got to let me go." To his surprise the boy actually smiled, and released him. Dean gritted his teeth as he pulled up his sleeve to reveal splotchy red finger marks where he'd been grabbed. "Damn dude, you've got quite a grip."

Cas looked chagrined and a little bit sheepish. "I apologize. Sometimes I don't know my own strength."

"I'll say," Dean muttered. "Anyways, if we're gonna get to the bottom of this, you're going to have to tell me everything, and I mean everything about what you remember from before you were here. I know you've told the shrinks that you don't know anything about who you were, which I think is bull. There's gotta be something rattling around in that weird head of yours. First though, I'll need to do some research, look up the lore on angels, see if there's any proof at all that they even exist. Man, my kid brother Sammy's gonna love this one."

"Going to love what?" As if on cue, Sam's light-brown mop of hair had appeared at Dean's elbow.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **I'm leaving for vacation tomorrow, so the next update will depend on the wifi situation at the hotel. Thanks for reading!

* * *

Sam couldn't believe his ears. His big brother, the one who teased _him _about being a girl, was researching a case about angels. Religion was never a topic of discussion in the Winchester household unless Latin, exorcisms, or demonic lore was involved. When Sam was eight, he'd told Dean something Pastor Jim had said about angels watching over them. Dean had laughed in his face and told him to stop being such a baby. He wondered what this blue-eyed boy had said to Dean to change his mind.

Dean cleared his throat. "Cas, this is my little brother Sam. Sam, meet spaceboy." Cas gave Sam a slight nod of recognition before focusing his large, somewhat vacant eyes back on Dean. "What're you doing here anyway, Sammy? Don't you have like, homework and stuff?"

The younger boy scowled up at him. "While you were resting on your ass in here, I was trying to find out what Dad was hunting," he hefted a dusty tome up for Dean to see. "Lesser Key of Solomon. I think we might find it in here."

Sam couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at the look of respect in Dean's eyes. "Nice work!" he exclaimed, ruffling Sam's hair before he had a chance to escape, "maybe we'll make a hunter out of you yet." If Cas was confused by the proceedings, he gave no sign. He merely stood as if he'd been carved from marble, staring at Dean with an unreadable expression. "Unfortunately, little brother, I've got actual work to do. And you," he jabbed a finger at Sam's chest "are in the way. What the hell'd you think to come here for? I'll be home in a few hours. Make yourself some dinner and start reading."

Sam's face fell. "Oh, yeah right. That was stupid of me. Shoulda figured," he let out a weak laugh. "it's just with Dad gone and all.." _the motel is so empty. I hate coming home to canned soup and the sound of the couple next door bickering. Please don't make me say it _he begged silently.

Dean read it all in his little brother's eyes and worked to protect him from embarrassment. "On second thought, why don't you stay here, Sammy? Dad would tan my ass if he knew I'd let you wander around by yourself at this hour."

"It's five o'clock Dean, and I'm in high school," but Sam was smiling.

"I don't care. You're staying here and that's final. Stay out of my way and don't let the nurses catch you. Last thing I need is your dumb ass getting me in trouble."

Sam nodded, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly "I'm not an idiot Dean." And with that, he darted off, searching for an out-of-the-way nook where he could read in peace.

Dean glanced at Cas, surprised to see that he had remained throughout their conversation. "So uh, yeah. As you can see, I've got my best man on the job, so if you'll excuse me," he stepped around Cas gingerly, "I have a floor that needs mopping and some hot nurses to interrogate."

"I see. Well, I would hate to keep you from your… research," a smile twitched at Cas' lips as he turned to leave.

Dean could scarcely believe it. "Spaceboy's using sarcasm now, is he? Maybe it's human after all," he called teasingly. Cas waved without turning around. "Bastard's almost as sassy as Sam," Dean grumbled under his breath as he returned to the task at hand.

* * *

The hospital was so lonely at night. Cas sat at his customary perch by the window, letting the silence wrap around him like a blanket. No one was ever awake during these silent hours. Even insomniacs had to sleep at some point. But never Cas. He'd been here for months, watching the night slowly bleed into day. Usually he thought about home, tried to search inside himself and find it like he did in art therapy. Often he was unsuccessful. Other nights he'd catalogue all the thoughts and emotions he'd picked up during the day, turning each one over in his mind before locking it away for future reference. Tonight, Cas thought about Dean Winchester. He tried to imagine that he was here, in the room. _Look at the stars _Cas would say, and point out some of the constellations he'd read in a book once, along with a few he made up himself. Perhaps this time Dean wouldn't laugh and call him "Spaceboy." Instead, they could share the windowsill and Cas would stretch his wings and maybe Dean might even see them. No one else ever did, but Dean was different, he could tell.

Cas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His heart was beating faster than usual, in fact he could practically hear it pounding in his ears and he felt warm, as if he was ill. Cas had never been sick in his admittedly limited memory, but wasn't this how it started? He thought back to art therapy and the call from on high. Was it a warning? Had his connection home strengthened because he was getting closer to death? If he died, would he return? Suddenly, Cas knew he had to get out. He could feel the walls of the hospital pressing in on him, swallowing him whole. He jumped up, searching for something, anything that could break the thick glass windows. He room was sparsely furnished, with only a bed and a closet to hold a few meager items of clothing. Cas had no worldly possessions other than some paper and charcoal Doctor Weinburg had let him take from the art room. The only light source in the room was a bulb high up and sunk into the ceiling, to prevent hangings he supposed. No chairs or even a desk. The room was shrinking with every minute that slid by. He was wasting precious time.

_Castiel._ There it was again, the voice emanating from deep within him. Cas was gasping for breath now. He couldn't let it end this way. Dean and Sam were going to help him, he was going to find a way out of here, find out who he was. Disjointed thoughts and images shot through his head in a blur. Sam's book. Dean laughing. A hot, pungent scent that Cas couldn't identify. And finally, a man Cas had never seen before, chained to a wall. A roar burst from his throat and Cas charged the window, driving both fists through the glass.

The pain was instantaneous and blinding. Cas hear shouting and footsteps but it all sounded so far away. The door burst open, flooding the room with light. He heard gasps and realized dully that he was standing in a pool of broken glass and his own blood. His arms were still halfway through the window. He tried to draw them back but they were caught on something. The warm, slick, iron scent of blood was making him dizzy. Or maybe that was just the blood loss itself. There was activity behind him, but his vision had shrunk to his hands, encased in their glass prison. Cas felt a sharp prick at his neck, and noticed his body getting heavy. Hands gently extricated him from the window and eased him to the floor as he slipped into unconsciousness.


	7. Chapter 7

The Lesser Key of Solomon was proving to be less of a help than hoped. Sam couldn't believe the sheer multitude of demons cataloged within the cracked pages. Worse, none stood out as potential kidnappers. He rubbed his tired eyes and glanced anxiously at the clock. 11:30pm. Getting up for school tomorrow was not going to be easy. Sam slid out of his chair, shutting the book with an air of defeat.

"Giving up so soon?" called his brother from the couch. He sat cross-legged with their father's research spread before him.

"It's late Dean, and you know I have-"

"Skip it!"

Sam glared, "No, I already missed eighth period yesterday to go to and get this stupid book."

"Aw c'mon Sammy, what's your hang-up about school anyways? In a few years you'll be hunting full time, Winchester style."

"Says who?"

"The hell are you talking about?!"

A flush was creeping up the younger boy's neck. He balled his hands into fists and blurted out "Iwanttogotocollege."

"Sammy, you can't be serious. We've got to help Dad and find the thing that killed Mom!" Dean's voice was rising to a dangerous volume. "This is something we've been training for our whole lives. Dad's sacrificed-"

"What, exactly?" Sam's tone had turned cold and his eyes were flat and hard. "It seems like he's been sacrificing our future more than his."

"Don't say that, Sammy," Dean warned as he slowly rose from the couch.

"I can say whatever I want to! You aren't the boss of me!" Sam instantly regretted the immaturity of his statement. He was supposed to handle this, his first act of open defiance, like an adult.

"Yeah, well you can tell that to Dad when he gets back. I'm sure he'll be real pleased to hear it," Dean spat out.

"Maybe I will."

"You don't mean what you're saying, Sammy. You're just angry is all. You'll regret everything in the morning. Now why don't you sleep on it and we can talk tomorrow," Dean said soothingly, placing a comforting hand on his little brother's shoulder.

"I'm not a little kid, Dean!" Sam shouted, pushing Dean away, "I'm being serious here! I want to go to school and get a real job and be normal for once in my life!"

"Are you saying you don't want to be part of this family anymore?" Dean hissed.

Sam flinched as if he'd been slapped and spun on his heels. He stalked past Dean and slammed the bedroom door behind him.

* * *

Sam stood pressed against the door, the knob still clutched in his hand. Dean's words were ringing in his ears, accusing him of the ultimate betrayal. _But I just want to spread my wings, be on my own for a few years. I'd come back,_ Sam thought, but he knew deep down that there was something more. _Who was Mom anyways?_ She existed in Sam's mind as leverage John Winchester used when he wanted to ensure Dean's obedience. His brother talked about her all the time, but he'd only been four when she died; how much could he possibly remember? Sam also suspected that they would never stop hunting, even after they killed… whatever it was. He squinted in the dim light, taking in the rumpled, dirty sheets, the piles of unwashed clothes strewn about the floor, several knives and a shot gun hidden under mattresses and pillows. This was his life- cramped hours in the Impala, weapons training, learning Latin and of course, the constant moving. _They will never stop, and they will never let me leave. _Sam imagined sitting squashed in the backseat with Dean when they were forty, listening to the same old cassette tapes. _If we even live that long. _Sam could feel the frustration building up within him, swelling him up like a giant balloon. One day he would burst. _What then? Dad will disown me, that's what. Dean will hate me. _Sam could see himself several years down the road, though still in his thirteen year-old body. John's face, flushed with anger as he kicked his youngest son to the curb. Dean in the background, his eyes burning with anger. _They'll never want to see me again._ In the safety of the darkened bedroom, he allowed himself to cry.

* * *

_Sammy really needs to get a grip; this whole "rebellious teenager" thing is getting old, _Dean thought bitterly as he wished yet again for his father to magically reappear and straighten him out. Dean didn't understand what Sam's problem was. After all, Dean had never given Dad this kind of crap before, never even considered it. John Winchester's word was gospel in his mind, so he simply couldn't fathom Sam's disobedience. _I'm sure he'll snap out of it, he has to! _But something gnawed at him. Sammy had never really taken to the lifestyle the way he had, was it possible…? Dean shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and focused intently on the grungy linoleum that no matter how hard he scrubbed, never seemed to get any cleaner. _Maybe this is why they've got me mopping all damned day. _

He glanced over his shoulder, half- expecting that Cas kid to be staring at him from around the corner. Funny, he almost missed that freaky dude following him around. That reminded Dean- he had research to do. "Hey Rachel," he called sweetly as he sauntered up to the nurse's station, "How are we doin' today?"

Rachel rolled her eyes but Dean could see that she was trying to hide a smile. "Fine, thank you. What do you want, bucket boy?

"Nothin' much, I just wanted to chat. I mean, I bet you've seen some pretty strange stuff around here."

"Look, I have a boyfriend okay? And you are way too young for me."

Dean placed his hands over his heart in a gesture of mock injury. "You wound me! I was, for once, interested in the story. Like what about that Cas guy?" he hedged, "seems like he's got an interesting background. I mean, you told me he was doing a nudie stint and all, but was there anything else?"

Rachel laughed. "Your little shadow? Let's see, yeah, paramedics brought him in. At the time he was really weak, could barely stand. Someone had beaten him up pretty bad too. Though when we asked him what happened, he blamed the lion statue outside city hall."

"Wow, the guy's more cracked than I thought."

"Well he's gotten a little better since he's been here. I mean, he still thinks he's an angel, and he insists that he never sleeps," she rolled her eyes again, "but he's much more aware of others now."

"How do you mean?"

Rachel fidgeted with her pen, "When he first arrived, he just didn't seem to understand emotions. He was like some sort of alien, you know?"

Dean grinned, "Like Spock?"

"Who?" Rachel tilted her head quizzically.

"Ahh, never mind. Where is the little dude anyways?"

Rachel shifted uncomfortably, "Look, I heard he had some sort of breakdown last night. When I got here this morning they'd already brought him to the hospital wing."

"What?!" Dean's heart started racing. Was this his fault? Had he and Sam over-excited some poor mentally deranged kid, fueled his delusions and caused him to go off the rails? "Where?" he choked out.

"Third floor, but- HEY, GET BACK HERE!"

It was too late. Dean had taken off towards the elevator.


	8. Chapter 8

Cas groaned as the effects of the sedative began to wear off. He tried to scratch his nose, but his arm could only move a few inches off the bed. _Restraints._ Pain pulsated up his arms, which were swathed in bandages to the elbow. He tried to sort through the hazy memories of that night, but his thoughts kept sliding away and vanishing into blank space. _Meds. _Cas sensed a disturbance outside his room. Muffled voices and hurried movements floated into his consciousness but he lacked the focus to decipher them. Cas wondered vaguely if his condition was severe and the doctors were rushing in to save him. Oddly, he didn't _feel_ like he was dying.

"You're not allowed in there! I'm going to have to contact the director," screeched a disembodied voice.

"Screw you, bitch." Dean Winchester's freckled face appeared in his frame of vision. Cas noticed him pale as he took in the bandages and the restraints that held him in place, but he hung onto a smile determinedly. "Hey Spaceboy, looks like you've gotten yourself into quite the scrape." he mumbled with a forced cheerfulness.

"I really wish you wouldn't call me that," Cas heard himself say.

That made Dean smile genuinely. "How much painkillers are you taking, man?"

"A lot. I don't really know…" Cas thought his own voice sounded funny, sort of thick and garbled. "I think they're afraid I'm goin' to try and jump out another window."

Dean's face fell. "God, don't say that, Cas, please."

"It's alright, really. I wasn't actually trying to kill myself. I just… needed some fresh air," he giggled a bit in spite of himself.

"That's not funny." Through the fog of medication, Cas could tell that the boy was truly hurting.

"I'm sorry Dean," He croaked. His throat was awfully dry. How long had he been out? "The reasons why I did what I did are… complicated and confusing. I don't understand though, why are you upset?"

Dean swallowed hard and disappeared for a minute, returning with a cup of water. "Try me, Spaceboy. I'm surprisingly smart. And charming." _For a high school dropout anyways. _

"Don't forget modest."

"Har, har. Too bad they couldn't drug away your sense of humor, Anyways, start talking. But drink this first. You sound like you swallowed a roll of sandpaper." Dean held the cup up to Cas' lips, since his arms were immobilized by the restraints. Cas took a few grateful gulps, though a large quantity of the water ended up sloshing down his front.

He cleared his throat. "Well, I'm not exactly sure I understand it myself. I heard someone calling my name, but it was coming from inside me. Inside my bones. So I thought I was dying and maybe they were calling me home. I… I had to get out." Cas could feel the medications pulling at the edge of his consciousness, threatening to drag him into oblivion. "I saw a man. He was in danger, chains… And it smelled awful." He lay back on the pillow, exhausted from the effort of speaking.

"Hey man, it's alright, relax." Dean reached out to give Cas' hand a squeeze but saw the bandages and hastily withdrew; settling for a comforting pat on the shoulder instead.

"I just… This has never happened to me before. Please…" Cas felt his eyelids droop and he allowed himself to slip into unconsciousness.

"Don't worry," Dean whispered, gazing fondly at the sleeping boy, "me and my brother are on it." He realized that his hand was still resting on Cas' shoulder and quickly moved away. _Awkward_. Dean turned to go and found himself staring directly into the face of Doctor Kyrtell. He did not look pleased.

"Dude, did anyone ever tell you that you're kinda short?"

"I think you'd better come with me, young man. There are a few matters we need to discuss." The doctor's tone indicated that he was in no mood for argument. Dean groaned inwardly as he allowed Kyrtell to lead him away. _So much for community service. _

* * *

"Alright Doc, what have I done this time?" Dean swatted at a rubbery plant whose leaves were tickling at his nose, and tried to adopt an expression of injured innocence. _If he threatens to send me to juvie, I'll just make a run for it. Grab Sammy at school. We can't leave without dad but I could leave a message for him at the motel, find somewhere to lay low for a while until we get things figured out. _

Doctor Kyrtell sighed, rubbing at his temples as he sat down at his desk. "I think you know what you've done, but I'll reiterate for posterity's sake: you left your court ordered position, entered the hospital wing where you are not allowed access, and when asked to leave you insulted the staff. Not to mention the harassment of a mentally unstable child."

"Whoa, whoa hey, I wasn't hurting Cas! I- I wanted to make sure he was okay," Dean gulped. "The other stuff I can't really deny," he flashed the doctor an ingratiating grin. "I really am sorry though. It'll never happen again… sir," he added hastily. _Please don't call the cops. _

Kyrtell looked down his long nose at Dean and sighed. "I suppose I can't blame you for being nosey, and you do strike me as a well-intentioned young man, all evidence to the contrary. The rudeness to my staff however, was inexcusable. You must formally apologize at once. This is a warning, Dean. Any more infarctions from you, no matter how small, and I'm afraid I will have to contact the authorities. You may return to your work now." He removed his spectacles and began polishing them on his shirt, a dismissive gesture.

Dean couldn't believe his ears. He was getting off with practically Scott-free. It was all he could do not to whistle. He stood with a brisk "Thank you, sir" and practically saluted the man. His hand was on the doorknob when he heard the doctor speak once more behind him.

"Oh, and Dean. Be careful in your association with Cas. It would be unseemly if you too were to become too… attached."

"How do you mean?" Dean fought to keep the growl of anger out of his voice.

"I'm merely being practical. I don't think it would be healthy for Cas, in his fragile state, to become close to someone who will be leaving us soon. I'm sure you understand." Dean nodded stiffly without turning around and left, trying to keep a lid on his rioting emotions.

* * *

_The scent of damp earth filled his nostrils. Underground. The damned thing probably had him locked away in a root cellar somewhere. He tasted blood on his lips, and judging from the pain there was a good deal caked on the side of his head as well. He tried to raise his head, but the room swooped and swam before his eyes. If only he could move his arms- but they were splayed out to the sides, chained up and bloodless. Dean. He had to get to Dean. Warn him, tell him that the demon was so much stronger, that this job went deeper than a simple monster hunt. Tell him to take Sammy and run, maybe it wouldn't be too late for them. A flutter of movement to his left caught his eye. John Winchester felt the tip of the knife tickle down his bare side, before a fresh cut sent him hurtling back to the blackness. _


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **I really struggled with this chapter, and I apologize if it shows. The next one will be better, I promise! Thank you all so much for your reviews, they make me feel warm and bubbly inside (especially those who take the time to review almost every chapter- you know who you are!)

* * *

Cas eagerly awaited Dean's arrival that morning. He had been released from the hospital wing, though his floor privileges were limited for the time being. For example, he could no longer wander around at will or visit the art therapy room whenever he wished. That didn't matter though because Dean would be proud of him for bouncing back so quickly. Now they could really get to work on getting him out of there for good. But Cas sensed that something was wrong with his friend the moment Dean stepped out of the elevator. He wasn't greeted with a grin and a "Hey, Spaceboy!" Dean did not come over and ruffle his hair and make some sort of joke. Instead he kept his eyes downcast, got his list of chores from Rachel and walked right past Cas without so much as a second glance. _Maybe I'm actually invisible this time_. Cas waved at Rachel just to make sure, and she hesitantly waved back. _So Dean must be able to see me too. Did I do something wrong?_ He wondered, trying to think back to his time in the hospital wing. It was all rather hazy but he did remember Dean visiting, and the thought of that made him happy. _I told him what happened. What REALLY happened. The parts I didn't tell the doctors. About the voice and everything, _Cas realized with a cold, sinking feeling in his stomach. _He must assume I truly am crazy. _He quickly followed after Dean, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around.

"I understand what I said the other day was very odd. Please, it was the pain medication; I never meant any of it, don't stop helping me now," it all tumbled out in a rush, not the composed speech Cas had planned in his head. Maybe if he'd noticed the pain in the other boy's eyes he would have reconsidered.

Dean swallowed hard. "Look man, just leave me alone, ok?"

"Whatever I said, I'm sorry."

"Dammit Cas, I'm done, alright? I don't need to explain myself to you. Just… go back to polishing your halo or whatever you guys do." Dean knew that one cut deep. Cas' eyes widened with shock and confusion. "Dean…"

But he'd already turned his back, leaving Cas standing forlornly in the middle of the hallway.

* * *

Dean lay awake in the quiet darkness of the motel room, listening to the rhythmic sound of Sam's breathing beside him. His little brother had been out almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, but sleep eluded Dean. He kept replaying the events of the past few days in his mind. He hadn't wanted to hurt Cas, but what else could he do? _It would be unseemly if you two were to become too… attached. _That smug little pause irked Dean. _What the hell was Kyrtell implying? _He thought angrily, bunching the sheets in his hands. _"Attached," my ass. I'm no homo. I was just worried about the guy. He's some crazy dude I'm trying to help while we wait for dad to finish up so we can get out of here. _But that sounded hollow, even in his head. _Ok, maybe we have bonded a bit. Like Jack Nicholson and Will Sampson in One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest. Maybe mental institutions have that effect on people. _Dean fingered his forearm absentmindedly, remembering the strange boy's grip, when he'd asked for help. _And his eyes, jeez, it was like he was staring into my friggin' soul. _Dean felt heat rising in his cheeks and push those thoughts away furiously. _Maybe this is for the best. Cas probably hates my guts now, so I won't have to talk to him again._ John Winchester didn't raise his boys to be queer, no siree. Besides, Dean reasoned uncomfortably, he _liked_ girls. Hell, he'd even gone all the way with Annmarie Davis in the backseat of her dad's convertible before he'd dropped out of school. All the same, it felt like he'd plunged a knife into his own chest. _Cas doesn't deserve this. Hell, I bet he doesn't have a clue what's going on. Spaceboy indeed. Does he even have emotions?_ Then he thought about the boy standing sad and lost in the corridor as he walked away and realized with a pang that Cas most certainly did. Dean dressed with shaking hands and before he could re-think what he was about to do, exited the motel, closing the door softly behind him.

* * *

The night was a smoky black, with the clouds obscuring the stars.

"No, I don't sleep," Cas informed the night nurse. She was new, obviously, and Cas hadn't yet learned her name. She closed the door uncertainly, leaving Cas staring moodily out the window. After several hours he'd given up trying to decipher the wrong he'd committed that had caused Dean to stop speaking to him. That didn't make the rejection sting any less. In fact, Cas wondered why he cared in the first place. People had never meant very much to him. They were merely bodies that came in and out of his life, taking up space in the hospital. Then Dean had arrived with his cocky grin and devil-may-care attitude and suddenly Cas didn't know what to think anymore. When he thought about Dean he felt… strange; like an electric current was running through his body. _Closer to home._ Not that it mattered anymore. Dean had left him for whatever incomprehensible reason. _Angels aren't meant to fraternize with humans. Perhaps this is my punishment. _Cas heard the door creak open once again. _She's really quite persistent. _

"I told you already, I don't-" but instead of the night nurse he found himself staring at a familiar freckled face. "Dean…" he breathed.

* * *

_God, he looks so confused. And hopeful,_ Dean thought nervously. _I'm just gonna apologize and get the hell out of here. No pansy, drawn-out speech. And definitely no hugging. Maybe a handshake. _"Look Cas, about earlier, I uh," he swallowed convulsively. "M'sorry, okay? It's just… things are complicated and-" Cas was suddenly a few inches from his face. _How the hell does he move so fast?_ Dean felt the heat radiating off his body. Those icy eyes were looming in front of him, drawing him in. He became aware that he was practically gasping. _No, I can't,_ Dean thought helplessly. But his body screamed _go _even as his mind begged him to stop. He leaned forward and felt Cas' chapped lips brush against his.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **Training trip is this week, so the next chapter might be a bit late. Hope this one will keep you satisfied until then! As always, reviews are manna from heaven :D

* * *

Dean's head snapped back, breaking the embrace. _No._ His brain was shutting down, ultimately rejecting his body's actions. His mind jumped, skipped, and hopped, random thoughts flashed through his consciousness. _I'm a fucking idiot, _followed quickly by _I didn't mean it, _and finally settling on an image of Annmarie Davis stretched out in the backseat, naked and inviting. Cas was squinting at him expectantly, trying to gauge his reaction. Dean was aware of the other boy's breath, harsh and ragged against his neck. "Cas, I-" he gulped, gasping like a fish. _What would Dad say? _Dean's physical instincts took over. He shoved Cas roughly out of the way and bolted from the room.

* * *

Sam awoke from some half-remembered nightmare, reaching automatically through the darkness for his older brother. The empty space at his side shocked him into awareness like a bucket of cold water. "Dean?!" he cried out into the stale air, but no answer was forthcoming. The red, spiky readout on the motel clock announced that it was 2AM. Sam quickly flicked on the lamp perched precariously on the bedside table, reaching under the mattress to pull out a shotgun as he did so. Cradling the weapon in the crook of his elbow, like he'd seen Dean do so many times, Sam examined the small room, trying his best to remember what he'd been taught. _Salt lines are undisturbed, temperature feels normal, doors and windows are locked. Maybe he decided to go out for a late-night drink or cruise for a hookup._ But that didn't sit right with Sam. The lack of a note for one, _and he'd never leave me alone like this with Dad gone. _Fear stole through Sam like a chill wind. _Whatever got Dad got Dean. And now it's coming for you. _Sam tried desperately to ignore his trembling fingers, fighting to keep control of the shotgun. _Stop being such a baby. That's ridiculous. _But was it? Already in his thirteen short years, Sam Winchester had seen a heckuva lot stranger things happen to families far more normal than his own. He reached the bathroom on tiptoe, hands closing around the vial of holy water stashed behind the toilet. Sam had to find the connection between the disappearances. _Find the demon, find my family. _Sam tried to ignore a sinking feeling of inadequacy growing in the pit of his stomach; if his big brother, or even Dad, couldn't handle this thing, how could he? _I'll get the drop on him somehow,_ Sam thought determinedly, reaching the living area and stealthily pulling the _Lesser Key of Solomon_ from under a couch cushion. He finally deemed the motel safe enough to turn on the light, and in fact decided to turn on all the lights. _If the lights go out, that's a sign of spirit activity _Sam reasoned, grabbing a flashlight too, just to be safe. _No Winchester was ever afraid of the dark._

* * *

Dean stared dully at his pale, sweating reflection in the warped hospital mirror. Most likely only a few minutes had passed since he'd stumbled, retching, into the cramped and yellowing restroom, but it felt like a lifetime. Dean pressed a hand to his stomach and took a few long, slow, breaths in an attempt to ease his roiling gut. He splashed some more cold water on his face with quivering hands, hoping that somehow this was all a crazy bad dream brought on by a late-night beer and potato chips binge. _This can't be happening. It never happened. I'm gonna wake up to Sammy banging around the motel getting ready for school. Maybe he'll even save some food for me. Damned kid eats like a horse. _Dean closed his eyes, trying to breathe life into the illusion, but the sound of the door banging open shattered his carefully constructed walls. He caught sight of Cas standing behind him in the mirror. Dean whipped around furiously, fists raised. He felt like a dog he'd seen once that had gotten it's leg caught in a bear trap deep in the woods. The poor thing was mangled, the leg crushed down to the bone and held fast by iron jaws. Dean could smell the blood and fear radiating off the animal, but when he'd approached the dog to free it, he'd nearly gotten his hand bitten off. "JUST GIVE ME A MOMENT TO FUCKING BREATH OKAY?" he shouted.

"I… take it you are dissatisfied," Cas mumbled quietly. His face was drawn and pale, those hypnotizing eyes staring numbly from their sockets. His shoulders were slumped, hunched over like an old man. _Poor guy looks almost as messed up as I feel._

All the fight went out of Dean instantly. _How the hell do I answer that? _ "I don't know how I feel right now," was his hoarse, hollow reply. As he spoke, Dean realized that he was telling the truth. He couldn't discern his feelings anymore. They were buried underneath expectations and duties and Winchester bravado. He backed up until he found the wall and slip down its length until he was sitting on the floor, his knees bent up towards his chin. He rubbed his temples, feeling both the physical and emotional exhaustion set in. He heard a rustle of cloth beside him. Surprised, he opened his eyes to see Cas crouched on the ground, a bit too close for comfort as always. The boy looked strangely pensive, running the tip of his tongue over his lips in a distracted fashion, as if he could still taste the kiss but couldn't decide if he liked it or not.

"I have my own doubts as well, Dean. As you may have noticed I don't exactly 'feel' the way humans are supposed to," he said, using air quotes for emphasis, _"_and well, I don't exactly know what this means."

Dean sighed, his head was still spinning. He needed to tackle one problem at a time. "There's no way I'm dealing with all that emotional crap right now. Or ever. Let's focus on finding out what the hell you are."

Cas nodded slowly, although the sideways glance he threw at Dean indicated that he suspected the other boy was ignoring the real issue. "Don't you think we should-"

"No, I don't," Dean cut him off brusquely. "Now is the time for action!" He stood a bit too quickly, forcing him to cling to a sink while the black spots cleared from his eyes. He was grinning, but not his usual confident smirk. The corners of Dean's mouth were stretched tightly and his eyes shone with a manic, fevered brightness.

Cas reached out to lay a hand on his arm, but Dean jerked spastically away. "I'm serious dude, no touchy-feely stuff."

"Alright. I apologize." Cas withdrew his hand, "However, how am I supposed to act when I see you at work? I do not understand the nature of our… relationship."

Dean flinched visibly. "You're gonna act damn well like you always do," he growled, "Nothing's changed here." Though they both knew that was a lie.

"And you?" Cas murmured tentatively. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared resolutely at the ground. Dean realized then that Cas was trying to protect their friendship, bond, whatever the hell it was that had brought them together in the first place. His heart gave another painful squeeze and he arranged his face in what he hoped resembled a smile.

"Of course I'll be the same… Spaceboy." That seemed to placate Cas, who awkwardly reached out and shook his hand.

"You should probably get going," he whispered earnestly, "The nurses will come for rounds any minute now."

_Shit_. Dean didn't know how much time he'd wasted in that bathroom. He refused to think about what would happen if he was discovered. He darted around Cas and ducked into the hallway, first checking that the coast was clear in all directions. Dean threw the boy a halfhearted wave before disappearing down the corridor. Cas watched him leave, illuminated by the sickly glow of the fluorescent overhead lights, and try to put a name on the curious sensation that was bubbling up inside his chest.


	11. Chapter 11

Dean embraced the foggy night air as he ran down the deserted streets towards the motel. His cheeks burned with shame. Dean could hear his father's voice inside his head, telling him to "man up". The Winchester name was not to be disgraced by weaklings and sissies. _I kissed another guy. _Dean paused under the glow of a streetlight, panting for breath. He still had several miles to go before he reached his temporary home, but the sheer physical effort was helping to put his mind at ease. The pain coursing through his muscles occupied his thoughts, rather than confusing emotions surrounding a certain mental patient. Dean picked up his pace, driving away thoughts of Cas with each step. _It was temporary insanity. Maybe some of his crazy is trying to rub off on me. _John Winchester would never have "experimented". His life was that of a cowboy straight out of those old westerns Dean loved to watch on television. _Ride into town, save a busty broad, love her and leave her, that's how the story goes. How the hell did I screw up so badly?_ Dean pushed himself harder. He was practically sprinting now. The motel slowly came into view, completely black save for one room that was lit up like a Christmas tree. Dean groaned inwardly as he recognized which one it was.

* * *

_I am so not in the mood for this crap,_ Dean thought desperately, rolling his eyes heavenwards in hopes that maybe the man upstairs would give him a break this time. No such luck. When he looked back down, his younger brother was still standing there with his hands on his hips, mad as hell.

"Where were you?" he demanded, sniffing the air suspiciously, trying to catch a whiff of booze.

"Out," Dean growled. "It's none of your damn business."

"You always leave a note."

"Yeah? Well this time I didn't. I'm a big boy, Sammy. I can come and go as I please."

"I was _worried _about you, Dean! I woke up and you weren't there and I thought that maybe you went to go find whatever Dad's hunting and it got you too," the younger boy shouted. He was practically in tears. "I've been up all night trying to figure out what happened. I have school tomorrow and you were probably just out with some girl!" Dean flinched at that and prayed Sam didn't notice. His little brother seemed too upset to care, however. He stood silently, clutching _The Lesser Key of Solomon _in one hand and a flashlight in the other, glaring up at Dean with reddened eyes.

Dean sighed. He really couldn't stay mad at Sam for long, especially since this mess was entirely Dean's fault. _Look what you did. Got your little brother all freaked out while you were playing kissing games with some dude who thinks he's an angel._ He could feel John's disapproval bearing down on him. _Watch out for Sammy. And what do I do? _Dean forced himself not to think about that anymore. He put his hands on Sam's shoulder.

"I'm alright. See? I won't sneak out any more, I promise. I'll leave a note next time. Here, punch me, I deserve it." That made Sam chuckle a little as he swatted ineffectually at his brother. "Look Sammy, I'm not gonna let anything steal me away. I've gotta stick around and babysit your ass after all." Sam's eyes widened. _Steal_ he mouthed slowly before diving back towards the couch, furiously flipping through the pages of the raggedy old tome.

"Woah woah, what's going on-"

"Shut up, Dean," Sam muttered half to himself, "I think I might know what happened to Dad."

Dean stood rooted to the spot, gaping like a fish. He waited for Sam to cease his frantic searching, which he did after a few moments, grinning smugly.

"Here," he tapped a page, "Valefor."

"What?"

"Or Malaphar. He's got a lot of names."

"Sammy, you're not making any sense."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Basically he's a duke in Hell. Commands ten legions of demons. Umm, he tempts people to thievery so when you said you weren't going to let anyone 'steal you' I thought maybe…"

"Atta boy!" Dean crowed, giving his little brother a noogie. "Now does it say how to kill this sonovabitch? Or where he might be keeping Dad?"

Sam's face fell. "No, I mean he's a demon so he's probably possessing a human. Which means we'd need to exorcise him, I guess… But he's a duke in Hell, Dean! He's gotta be stronger than anything you've ever seen before," he paused before whispering "maybe even stronger that anything Dad's ever seen."

Dean huffed, "We're Winchester's Sammy! When there's a will, there's a way. Now, you skedaddle. Go sleep or whatever. I'll see what I can find out tomorrow."

"Don't you have community service? You have to get up early too!" Sam yanked on Dean's sleeve pulling him towards the bedroom. _Wow I really must've scared to poor kid, _Dean mentally kicked himself for being such an idiot, but Sam was still chatting excitedly.

"Hey maybe your friend at the hospital can help us! He says he's an angel, right? I bet he knows a thing or two about demons."

Dean tried not to shudder outwardly, "Just get some sleep, Sammy. Tomorrow's gonna be a long day." _In more ways than you can imagine. _

* * *

Water dripped slowly from the earthen ceiling. Drop after drop slid down the dank wall, hurdling roots and pebbles until they touched the man. The drops reddened after that, and added their weight to the steadily growing puddle on the ground. John Winchester groaned half-conscious in his cell. The shadowed man flicked his razor lazily up and down his battered torso.

"I'm not gonna tell you anything," John hissed.

The shadowed man laughed coldly. "Who said I wanted anything from you?" _Slash. _"I found you skulking around my hideout and I figured I'd have a little fun." _Slash. _"Though I will admit, I am curious about these 'Sam' and 'Dean' folks." John let out a strangled cry. "Oh yes," the shadow continued, "you talk in your sleep. I expect I'll meet them soon enough. If they're so important to you, I'd expect they'll come looking." He reached out and gave John a comforting pat on the cheek before strolling away, his footsteps squelching in the mud. John Winchester screamed and cursed at the man to come and face him, to end it here and now, but all he got in return was the eerie sound of water dripping and echoing throughout the chamber. Tears rolled down his face and mixed with his blood. John relished their salty sting. He prayed silently that this monster would never find his boys, that Dean would have enough sense to take Sammy and get the hell out, that his stupid Winchester pride wouldn't surface.

Elsewhere, a blue eyed boy awoke screaming.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the wait! New semester starts today so in general I'll be updating a bit less often but I promise I won't leave you hanging! Also, thank you to Evita for the review (I couldn't reply for some reason) and to answer your question: I intend to stay within the boundaries of the "T" rating, but if that changes for whatever reason I'll be sure to put a warning up. Thank you EVERYONE for the reviews/follows/favorites. They keep me on my toes and challenge me to do my best work possible :D

Pretty angts-y chapter, I'll try to let them have fun at some point...

* * *

_Dean's been acting awful weird lately, _Sam mused as he poked at his now soggy cereal. He hadn't really noticed it last night amongst the panic of waking up to an empty room, the subsequent relief at his brother's reappearance and the excitement of discovering a lead, but something was definitely up with Dean. Sam remembered the way he held himself; uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot. That in and of itself was odd, as Dean tended to radiate confidence almost to the point of arrogance, but combined with the way he avoided answering Sam's accusations about where he'd been set off alarm bells in the younger boy's head. _He wasn't drunk. _Sam knew Drunk Dean all too well. If anything his cockiness increased and he was even more obnoxious than usual. _He didn't go pick up some chick either. _Dean always, ALWAYS bragged about his conquests the morning after. Sam could write a book about his brother's sex life. That is if he ever wanted to think about that ever again. Today however, Sam had dared joke about how Dean was so ugly he could only get girls to sleep with him in the middle of the night, when it was too dark to see his face. He was met with Dean's most ferocious glower, which had effectively shut him up for the rest of the morning. _Drugs maybe?_ Sam toyed briefly with the idea but dismissed it. That would explain the sweating and the jumpiness but John Winchester had a certain code of honor that Dean spent his life trying to follow to the letter. Alcohol was fine, but any other mind altering substance that could affect a hunter's performance was completely out of the question. So basically his brother was a cranky, irritable mess. _Maybe finally getting a lead on Dad will help, _Sam reasoned as he laced up his shoes and grabbed his backpack. He knew that Dean hated being left behind on a hunt and hated it even more when Dad disappeared for days on end, even though he tried not to let it show.

Anger bubbled up hot in the pit of Sam's stomach. He knew that Dad always paid for their room for several days before he left, but had almost been a week now. Dean probably had enough cash somewhere to last them a few more days, but what then? Sam tried not to think about living on the streets. He trudged to the city bus stop, which he would take to the residential part of town, where he could then take an actual school bus. That act drove another spike of anger shooting through him. John Winchester was never a drop-the-kids-at-school man, but sometimes he could convince Dean to take the Impala. Then at least he could be known as the kid with the sweet car. Sam kicked moodily at a rock. _Maybe Dean's rubbing off on me._ He decided to visit his brother at the hospital after school. Maybe they could talk to Angel Boy together and figure out what was going on.

* * *

_It's either this or juvie, and with Dad gone, somebody's gotta look after Sammy_. Unfortunately, skipping community service was not an option. Dean groaned and rubbed his temples as he popped a few aspirin with his coffee. If he didn't have a headache now, he certainly would later. He could already picture Cas' confused, googly-eyed stare when he walked in. _God what if he blabs to one of the shrinks? They like that, don't they? Admit your inner gay or your feelings for your mother and everything will be alright._ Dean decided hesitantly that perhaps Cas would be in hot water if he admitted to sneaking around with the equivalent of a staff member. _Nothing happened though_, he schooled himself forcefully. _I probably just over-balanced. Fell into it. _Dean regretted that John hadn't left any whisky behind or he could've added a shot or two to the coffee.

* * *

Dean almost bolted back into the elevator when he saw Doctor Kyrtell waiting for him at the nurse's station. Instead he arranged his face in what he desperately hoped was an expression on calm indifference, strolled over and rested his elbow nonchalantly on the desk.

"What's up Doc?"

"Very cute Dean, but I'm afraid we have a real problem here." Doctor Kyrtell removed his spectacles and held them up to the light, looking for some miniscule smudge.

_Be cool, be cool _"S'that so?" Dean inquired, raising an eyebrow for good measure.

"Yes, it appears someone broke in last night." _Shit. _"So I need you to go down to the first floor and examine our security. Look for any holes in the system, so to speak, and fix them if you can. Rachel tells me you're quite the handyman."

Dean almost collapsed with relief. Not only was he totally in the clear, but he also had the perfect excuse to avoid Cas all day. _Yeah I can tell you the "holes in your system" old man. A chain-link fence for one, I climbed that bad boy no sweat. A sleepy security guard helps too. _Dean nodded jovially at Doctor Kyrtell and went about his task with a whistle on his lips.

* * *

Sam padded cautiously up to the front desk, but the nice-looking blond nurse was nowhere in sight. He sighed, glancing up and down the corridors for a glimpse of his brother. Instead he found himself caught in an intense blue-eyed gaze as Cas poked his head out of his room.

"Oh, hi!" Sam grinned making his way down the hall, "have you seen Dean anywhere?"

Cas looked down uncomfortably. "No, I uh, I think he might be avoiding me."

Sam cocked his head, perplexed, so Cas continued. "Last night, um…" his cheeks reddened slightly

. Sam felt his stomach twinge. _What's going on here? _

"What, don't tell me you guys went on a date," Sam attempted to joke, but when Cas flushed an even darker shade of scarlet, his insides froze.

"Well it wasn't a _date_ per se… But we, k'now," Cas' voice dropped to a whisper and he glanced around anxiously to make sure no one was listening, "we kissed."

_This can't be happening. This is some sort of sick prank Dean's trying to pull. He wants me to stand here like I am now, looking like an idiot. I bet he's hiding somewhere, watching. _But the pained, fearful expression on Cas' face told a different story. He could tell that Cas was waiting for him to respond, but Sam couldn't even manage to close his mouth, which had dropped approximately to his knees. _Dean would never-_ This was the boy who had once claimed to have slept with three different girls in one night, who teased Sam constantly for his awkwardness around the opposite sex, who spent long, boring nights in motel rooms watching _Casa Erotica_ for Christ's sake. _And he worships Dad. _Sam was well aware of the hyper-masculine hunter culture that Dean had seamlessly woven into his personality, and the image of his brother kissing another guy was so out of place that Sam simply couldn't reconcile it. _I wonder how Dean feels, _Sam realized with a pang, knowing all too well that his brother was ill-equipped to deal with any sort of emotional turmoil. He imagined Dean fracturing into tiny pieces as he tried to redefine himself while still keeping everything the same. The weight of the past week suddenly came crashing down on him. _Dad's gone, Dean's in trouble with the police, there's a demon on the loose and now this. _Sam became aware that Cas hadn't moved an inch, still awaiting his reply.

"I don't know what to do anymore!" Sam blurted out, wincing as he realized he was dangerously close to tears.

He suddenly hated Cas for standing useless in front of him, for adding another layer to his already complicated life. He hated Dean too, for keeping secrets, but most of all he hated John for leaving them and letting this happen. Sam dashed to the elevator before his eyes could betray him.

* * *

"That was… not what I expected you to say," Cas mumbled finally into the empty air. He had opened his mouth to tell Sam about the shadow-man who haunted his dreams and knew the boy's names but once again words had failed him. _Maybe I'm in here because_ _I break everything I touch._


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note: **Time for brotherly feels! This chapter was a complete bitch to write. I went through about three drafts, each going in a completely different direction but I'm pretty pleased with this one. Thanks to my unofficial Beta, Mikey, for keeping me sane/not letting me take the easy way out and forcing me to stay true to the characters. Hope you like :D

~reviews are treasured~

* * *

Dean was in a good mood. The work at the hospital had included patching up a small tear in the chain link fence that was probably the result of some teenagers on a dare. It was a monotonous chore but at least it required enough concentration and dexterity that Dean could focus solely on the task at hand and banish all other thoughts, save for some Zeppelin lyrics, from his mind. He hadn't seen or heard from Cas at all. He swung open the motel door cheerfully, only to find Sam seated on the couch, arms folded across his chest.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam's eyes burned and his voice dripped with accusation.

"About what? The hell has gotten into you?"

"Don't play dumb! You've been acting weird ever since last night. I went to visit you today and I saw Cas-" Dean took a step forward. For a second Sam was scared Dean was going to punch him. He had never seen his brother's eyes so hard and cold.

"Yeah? And what did Cas say, huh? Cuz you can't exactly believe everything that comes out of his mouth. The kid's delusional. Did I mention that he thinks he's a goddamn angel?!" He clenched and unclenched his fists.

Sam's flushed, two bright red spots appearing on his cheeks. "Don't lie to me Dean! I'm not some stupid little kid. You can tell me what's going on with you! I mean, you're always looking out for me but you never tell me anything," Sam was doing his best to keep the whine out of his voice. _I'm so sick of this shit._ "Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do, Sammy," Dean groaned exasperatedly. His headache was coming roaring back. _How am I going to get out of this one? Shoulda known the damn kid wouldn't keep his mouth shut. _"It's just, I don't think you understand what's going on here. There's just been a little… misunderstanding." He gave Sam his best shit-eating grin.

"What, that my brother's gay?" Sam muttered flatly.

Dean gasped as if he'd been socked in the gut. All color drained from his face. "Don't you ever-"

"IT'S OKAY, DEAN!" Sam screamed, finally letting out all his rage and frustration. "I know Dad's filled you up with all this macho hunter shit. You've always done exactly what he wants you too and now you're terrified that you aren't going to be his golden boy anymore. Well guess what? That's crap. Dad's wrong, Dean. It makes me sick to see you like this and it's all his fault! I know you're confused and I know you're scared because I sure as hell am, but I just want you to be happy, alright?" The words tumbled out in a rush. Sam stood before Dean, panting slightly. The older boy stared back, slack-jawed. He opened and closed him mouth, even swallowed a few times.

"Thanks Sammy," he finally croaked out.

The younger boy edged forward hesitantly and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist.

"Dude, let's not get to sappy here. I'm not about to break open the tissues and have a good sisterly cry with you," Dean protested, but he rested his hand on Sam's head just the same.

"Ok, this is getting weird," Dean said after a few minutes, gently extricating himself from Sam's grasp. "And you wanted honesty, right? Well I'll give it to you. I don't know what I'm doing Sammy. I'm flying blind. And I don't really know how I'm supposed to feel. I mean, I like girls, you know." He glared uncomfortably at his younger brother, resenting the puppy dog eyes that always seemed to make him spill his guts. He sighed, "I mean the guy's a friggin' nutcase for Chirst's sake. And Dad…" He stopped. _I can't go there. _

"Let's work on the case," Sam suggested, hoping to distract his brother before he drove himself up a wall. Dean nodded gratefully and Sam continued. "I mean, we have two separate problems here. One, obviously, Dad is missing. We think kidnapped by Valefor. Duke of hell. Commands a few legions of demons. In some legends he's said to have a lion's head. Two, is there anything angelic about Cas, or is he just plain crazy?"

"Wait, what did you just say?"

"About Cas?"

"No, Valefor. He can appear as a _lion_?"

Sam's eyebrows knitted together in concentration, "Uhhh yeah. Why, you want us to start checking out local zoos?"

"No, stupid. But Cas, they found him on the steps of City Hall, right?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Well I went with Dad when he talked to the mayor about suspicious activity in the town. And get this, the statues in front of the steps? Lions."

"I dunno Dean, it seems pretty far-fetched to me."

"Hear me out. What if this Valefor guy messed with Cas somehow and that's why he has no memory or anything?"

Sam's eyes widened a bit. "Thieves! Valefor is practically their patron saint, or demon I guess."

Now it was Dean's turn to be confused. Sam rolled his eyes, "Angels have grace. It's like Heaven mojo- they need it to function, smite evil or whatever they do. What if Valefor managed to steal Cas'?"

The older boy nodded slowly. _I've heard crazier. Well, actually scratch that. This is by far the weirdest case I've ever been on. _"I guess we need to talk to Cas, maybe try to get him to remember what happened before he wound up in the loony bin."

"I think I should go to City Hall," Sam announced. "Someone needs to give those lion statues a closer look. There might be some sort of clue. Besides," he glanced sideways at Dean, "you have to talk to him eventually. About-"

"That's none of your damned business, Sammy," Dean snapped, although he had to agree that they would get more accomplished by splitting up. "Now that we have a game plan, we need to pack. Lore books and aspirin for me, notebook and a gun for you."

"But Dean-"

"No 'buts' Sammy. I'm not having you poking around looking for clues without protection. This Valefor guy, he's the real deal, alright? Be on your guard, and if you see anything suspicious, get the hell out of there."

"I will," Sam promised, taking the pistol Dean proffered. "I'll meet you at the hospital when I'm finished." The boys spent another hour packing their backpacks with salt, holy water, extra ammunition and a few different exorcism rituals, just in case of emergency. Dean drilled Sam on how to conceal his weapon properly and the younger boy helped Dean with his Latin pronunciation. They got into a minor scuffle over who had to do the dishes. Sam ended up in a headlock but Dean paid for it with a face full of soap. The brothers fell into bed exhausted but determined, the empty bed across form them serving as a constant reminder that they had some serious work to do.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's note: **Unbeta'd so all mistakes are regrettably mine. I wanted to get this chapter up before the week got busy. Enjoy!

* * *

"We need to talk"

Cas opened his mouth to respond, but Dean had already grabbed his arm and was dragging him into a nearby broom closet.

"What's the first thing you remember, Cas? When you wound up on the city steps? Do you remember anything before that? Anything at all? Maybe something you never told the shrinks because you thought they wouldn't believe you?"

Cas shifted uncomfortably in the tight space. "Dean, I don't think that this is a good place for such a conversation." He elbowed a mop out of the way.

Dean pursed his lips impatiently. "Alright, to make a really long story short, Sam and I think that our dad's disappearance and your case of the crazies are connected."

"But how-"

"Just answer my questions, okay?"

Cas sighed. "It's not something I particularly like to recall. I was just… there. The steps were cold and hard on my feet. That's the first thing I remember, I think. I was confused, obviously. I started calling for my father. People started to notice me and stare. And then I realized I didn't know who my father was. I didn't know who I was." His breath hitched and Dean reached out and put a tentative hand on his shoulder. "The rest is blurry. I believe someone called the cops. And then I wound up here. My first night I dreamed about home."

"Heaven, you mean?"

Cas looked searchingly at Dean, trying to gauge whether or not the other boy was teasing him. "Yes," he answered finally. "Not so much the place, but the feeling. I could hear my brothers and sisters calling for me but I couldn't understand what they were saying."

"Wow. I'm sorry to hear that," Dean mumbled, feeling ashamed that he hadn't bothered to ask Cas about this before. _I was so damned busy thinking about Dad and Sammy that it never even crossed my mind. _

Cas shrugged, glancing down at Dean's hand, as if noticing it for the first time. "You're touching me," he said simply. "I don't understand. I thought you-"

"Well I didn't mean it okay?" Dean glared defensively. He let go of Cas' shoulder and buried his face in his hands. "It's just, I've never been through something like this before."

Now it was Cas' turn to reach out and give Dean an awkward pat on the head, which made him chuckle. "Dude, what are you even doing?"

Cas opened his mouth but Dean continued, "nevermind, I've had enough Spaceboy talk today. Let's focus on the case please?" He tone was light, but his eyes begged Cas to let it go.

The other boy nodded, "Why were those questions necessary?"

Dean grinned gratefully as he stepped into his element, "Well Sam and I have this theory that a demon, Valefor, stole your angel mojo. That would explain why you can't actually become invisible, why you have no memory, your dreams, the voices, everything!"

"My Grace," Cas breathed.

"Uh yeah. I think that's what Sam called it. I'm guessing Dad went poking around too close and got kidnapped. What we can't figure out is where this Valefor guy might be hiding him. I was hoping, maybe you know a little bit about demons? Still got a little angel juice kicking around in you?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry Dean, I really don't remember anything else. I've never heard of this demon before."

"Hey that's alright!" Dean tried to hide his disappointment. "Sammy's looking for some clues at City Hall, where you appeared. I bet he'll find something; he's a smart kid."

They sat in silence for a moment in the darkness of the broom closet, breathing in the pungent scent of cleaning formula mixed with dust.

"Dean?"

"What is it, Cas?"

"Thank you. I'm sorry I couldn't a greater help. You and your brother have done so much for me…"

"It's in the job description," Dean said gently.

"I want you to feel comfortable with who you are. I apologize if I… damaged that in any way."

"Dammit Cas, it wasn't your fault! I was the one who freaked out," he laughed bitterly, "if anything, I'm trying to figure out who I am period."

"Believe me, I understand."

"Did you just make a _joke?_" Dean gasped in mock-horror.

"Amnesia is no laughing matter Dean," Cas intoned seriously, but he couldn't keep a straight face.

"Shut up," Dean shoved him affectionately, sending a mop clattering to the ground. "Shit, we better get out of here."

"Yes, I believe this is what you would call a compromising position."

Dean cracked the door open, scanning the hall before he stepped out. "All clear," he motioned to Cas to follow his lead.

"Dean! Your brother's asking for you on the phone." Rachel called from the nurse's station.

Cas grasped his sleeve before he could go. "Could we um, talk again later? I'm still confused."

Dean groaned inwardly, "Yeah, I'll come back later tonight or something, but right now I need to talk to Sam."

He brushed off some residual dust from his jacked and switched his thoughts to the case at hand, determined not to let a fallen angel get between him and his father.

* * *

Sam stood in a phone booth, trying as hard as he could not to touch the grimy sides.

"Yeah Dean, I haven't gotten to look at the statues yet. I lost my bus pass and had to spend, like two hours looking for it. Thanks for hiding it behind the toilet, dickwad." He heard his brother chuckle on the other end.

"Sorry Sam, you know me- I don't let opportunity pass by."

"Speaking of opportunity, did you talk to Cas?"

"You keep bringing him up, I swear to God I will kick your ass."

"I'm serious, Dean. Think about it, once we find Dad, we'll be outta here. Don't you think that maybe this once you could put yourself first?" He paused. "I won't tell him you know."

"Damn straight," Dean replied, but Sam could hear the fear in his voice. "Look, I'm working here, little bro so unless you got something important to say, leave me alone."

"Okay okay, fine. Just letting you know that I'll probably be back later than I said." Sam hung up, hoping at least some of his little speech had gotten through his stubborn older brother's head.

He crossed the street and approached the white marble steps, trying not to let his hand stray nervously to the pistol tucked into the waistband of his jeans. _I can't believe I let Dean talk me into this. If I get caught, I'm beyond screwed. _ Sam nonchalantly pulled out his notebook and strolled over to one of the majestic lions. It appeared perfectly ordinary, the very picture of a noble guardian protecting its beloved city, or whatever it was supposed to stand for. He ran his hands over the cool marble. No suspicious bumps of cracks. He circled both statues a couple of times. Still nothing. Sam sat down at the base, wondering if perhaps he'd been wrong this whole time. His hand brushed something underneath the lip of the pedestal that connected the lion to the steps. _Something's carved here." _ Sam bent down, contorting his neck as he tried to get a better look. It was a strange, swoopy symbol, a line that contorted and morphed into groups of triangles and circles that Sam recognized instantly from all the research he'd done. _Valefor's sigil. _He pressed a piece of paper against the statue and rubbed hard with his pencil until he'd made a satisfactory copy.

_I wonder if Dean's made any headway with the angel business_, Sam thought as he headed back towards the bus stop. What he'd heard on the phone didn't give him high hopes. A soft, furtive footfall behind him alerted his hunter senses but before he could turn around, something struck the back of his head and the world dissolved into blackness.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's note: **Sorry for the delay! I think you'll find this chapter was worth the wait though ;D

Also, I just put up the first chapter of another story called "The Other Side of Heaven"- check it out if you like. It's a Supernatural/Hunger Games crossover

Anyways, sorry for the shameless self-promotion. Happy reading!

* * *

The motel phone was ringing when Dean arrived home. He dove across the living room and managed to grab it before the answering machine picked up.

"H'lo?"

"Dean, are you there?"

"Yeah, 'course I am, Sammy, what's up?"

"Um nothing, it's just one of the girls at school invited me to a p-party at her house tonight. I probably won't be home until tomorrow."

"Are you okay, Sam? You sound scared or something. Chicks don't bite. Well, some of them do, but that's not entirely a bad-"

"Don't worry about me Dean. I'll see you later." The line went dead.

_That's odd. Sammy going to a party for one, and with a lady! Maybe the little dude'll finally get to first base. _Something about the call made Dean nervous. His brother's voice had been tense, pained. And he'd ended so abruptly. Dean flicked on the television, trying to shake the niggling doubts in the back of his mind. _He would've told me if something was wrong. Maybe this whole thing is just some setup to get me alone with Cas. Or just payback for hiding his bus pass. _Dean grinned to himself. That had been a good one, for an on-the-fly prank. _No, something is seriously wrong here. If there was one thing Dad taught me, it was to trust my gut. And I know Sammy. It's not like him to go out at all, let alone during a case. _Dean banged his fist on the coffee table in frustration. _I knew it! I knew I shouldn't have let him go off alone. This is all my fault. I bet the damned demon's got him too, now. _He jumped up, grabbing the jacket he had deposited on the back of a kitchen chair only moments before. _Cas is the only one who can help me now. I guess it's time for a little Cuckoo's Nest action. _

* * *

Sam hung up the phone with shaking hands.

"See? Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" The voice came from behind him, wheedling and insidious.

"Please let me go," Sam whispered, feeling the razor edge of a knife pressed against the back of his neck. "I won't tell anyone, I swear. The police-they'll never know, please." He couldn't stop the tears streaming down his face. _Dad or Dean wouldn't be crying right now, they'd be searching for an escape, _but the cold, hard metal sent spikes of fear shivering down Sam's spine. _I don't even know what he looks like. _It's hard to fight something you can't see. Particularly when that something exists only as a voice and the pressure of sharp steel creating a thin line of blood at one of your most vulnerable points. Sam had awakened in the dirt, the knife already in place. Sam hadn't turned his head since that moment. A phone had been handed out to him and he said what he was told.

The man behind him laughed scathingly, "Oh please, the authorities? What do I care about them? I could destroy this whole pissant little town of yours if I wanted to."

"Wha-"

The man sighed heavily, "Don't tell me you haven't figured it out yet. From what your father tells me, you're supposed to be the smart one."

Sam's heart leapt into his throat. _Valefor. _He inwardly kicked himself for being so stupid. _Dean was right all along. I let my guard down. _Sam tried to fight the thin tendrils of panic that were beginning to claw at his mind. _What's Dean going to do when he finds out I'm gone? What if he goes to City Hall and gets captured too? And what about Dad? Valefor knew about me and Dean. Was he tortured? _

Sam forced himself to calm down and take deep slow breaths. He was oddly comforted by the fact that this was the work of a Supernatural being and not a random psycho. Now that the faceless adversary had a name, Sam could fight back. Demons he could kill. Or at least send back to hell.

"Let me see your face," Sam hissed, trying to sound braver than he felt. Hell, most of Dean's personality consisted of pure bravado. It was worth a shot. _Glad I memorized that exorcism ritual._

"Cute, Sam, very cute." The knife dug in harder at the back of Sam's neck, causing him to whimper, "Are you sure you really want to? I've been told I'm quite frightening. You see, the man I'm wearing, well he was pretty crazy himself. Tried all sorts of things to get our attention– blood sacrifices, the lot. Burning now the warehouse where he did the killings, now that might've been a bit much. Normally I look down on such… pathetic, desperate attempts but this time, heh, let's just say I believe fear is a wonderful motivator. " He spun Sam around, keeping the knife pointed at his cheek, right below his eye. The boy fought to keep the gorge from rising in his throat. He had seen some truly awful things on hunting trips but the shock and utter horror that was the demon's visage was almost too much to bear. Weeping burns covered his entire face. Putrescent flesh hung in strips of his chin and his nose was merely a shriveled lump. The sweet, sickly smell of decay, which Sam had attributed to the underground chamber, hit him full force.

Valefor cackled, "You like? I slipped him on just when he was coming out of sedation. The doctors were very surprised. Before they were dead of course, but the look on their faces…" He gazed fondly into the distance through his vessel's gray eyes. "Now usually I'd patch the fellow up, but this is much more effective don't you think? I used a different body for your father. Satan knows there's enough of them to go around, but for you…"

Sam tried to keep his face still and unimpressed. "Where's my Dad?"

"All in good time, Sammy," Valefor cooed, placing a raw, red hand on the boy's shoulder. "Right now we have more… important business to discuss. For example, _where is the angel?"_

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sam muttered stubbornly. "What would a demon want with one of Heaven's little soldiers?"

"Let's try this again," Valefor sliced Sam across the cheek, blood instantly welling up in a line that stretched from his cheekbone to the corner of his mouth. "WHERE IS IT?"

Sam was panting now, trying to ignore the pain searing through his face. _Dean wouldn't give up. Neither would Dad. I just need to hold on… _"Didn't know they existed for real," he managed to gasp out.

If Valefor had proper skin, he would have paled in anger. "Listen here, you can either tell me the location of the angel, or I can wear your skin when I hunt down your brother." He leaned in close to Sam's face, the smell of his rotting flesh almost overpowering. "I can feel you shaking, by the way," he whispered in his ear.

Sam knew it was a stupid idea. Exorcisms rarely worked unless the demon was somehow impaired, whether physically held down or imprisoned in a Devil's trap, but he had no choice.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus," the Latin burst from his lips, he kept reciting as fast as he could, "omnis satanica potestas-"

Valefor reached out almost lazily and cracked Sam hard across the mouth, driving the boy to his knees.

"That's enough of that, son, though I think you're going to need something a bit more powerful to take ME down, if you know what I mean. I am a Duke in Hell, after all," Sam heard him in a muffled way, like he was underwater. His vision swam with tears. He could taste coppery blood in his mouth and wondered distantly if he'd lost any teeth. He was vaguely aware of the demon yanking him to his feet and binding his hands with rough rope. Sam struggled feebly, but Valefor hit him again, this time across the temple. _I'm sorry Dean, _Sam thought desperately as the world slid into silence once more.

* * *

For several moments before he opened his eyes, pain was all Sam knew. He lay still, in the dark behind his closed lids, cataloging his injuries. There was a deep, constant throbbing that resonated from his head. _Punch to the temple, maybe concussion._ His cheek felt like it was on fire, the pain flaring whenever Sam moved. _From when he slashed me with the knife. Definitely stitches. _His lip was split open. Sam could still taste the blood in his mouth and tried not to gag. _No loose teeth though, that's a relief. _Finally, there was that nagging, itching pain coming from where the rope was chafing his wrists. A small moan escaped his lips. Sure, he'd been beat up pretty bad on hunts before, probably worse than this in fact, but he'd always had Dean or John looking out for him. Plus, his cheek was really giving him hell. Sam tried not to think about all the nasty infections he could pick up from lying facedown in the mud. He cracked open his eyes, struggling to sit up without making his head spin. He was in a circular earthen chamber, with roots hanging ominously from the ceiling. The room was empty except for…

"Dad!" Sam cried out before he could stop himself. _The demon might be listening, stupid. _He tried again, softer. "Dad? Are you there?" Sam squinted, trying to get his eyes to focus in the gloom. He gasped. John Winchester looked like hell. His arms were chained to the wall spread-eagle with his feet barely touching the ground. Cuts zig-zagged up and down his bare torso in various stages of healing. Some, Sam noticed, were still bleeding slowly. His father groaned and lifted his head, a movement that seemed to take a massive effort.

"Oh God, Sammy he got you too. I'm so sorry."

Sam wasn't sure how to respond. John wasn't the type to apologize for his actions and Sam knew that it was his own stupid fault. So instead he settled for, "Dean's okay. I bet he's looking for us right now."

John smiled, "Good, good. Does he have any idea where we are?"

Sam paused uncomfortably, "Well, we figured out that the demon was connected to city hall, with the lion statues and everything. That's where I was when he got me. Dean was at the hospital," Sam decided to leave out the community service bit for now. "We found a lead there too. A guy thinks he's an angel and Dean thought maybe…" Sam trailed off, realizing he sounded ridiculous. He was all too aware of his father's position on religion of any kind.

But John was still smiling; in fact his face had contorted into a crazed grin. "Thanks Sammy," he drawled as his eyes went black. "That was almost too easy." A cloud of black smoke burst from John's mouth and his body instantly went slack. Sam was left alone, Valefor's laughter still ringing in his ears.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note:** Had a nasty brush with writer's block midway through the chapter, which is partly responsible for the delay. I have a better idea of where the story is going now. The end is approaching! Thanks to everyone who's stuck with me this far ;D I hope I don't disappoint

* * *

Lying on the bed was too suggestive and sitting cross-legged on the floor was too cold, so Cas resumed his traditional perch by the window to wait for Dean. The stars were covered in a thin blanket of clouds, so Cas stared at the streetlight on the corner instead. He'd been feeling odd all day, an unfamiliar thrumming sensation emanating from his ribcage. Cas pressed a hand over his chest and felt the vibrations, a continuous buzz underlying his heartbeat. His eyes slid out of focus and he felt himself slipping into the trance-like state that usually made him feel at home. _Not now, Dean will be here soon. I have to be normal for him. For both of us. _"Danger." Cas actually heard the voice this time, rather than felt it. He startled, eyes darting around the room, just to make sure he was alone. "If you can hear us Castiel, you need to get out." The voice was female, delicate but resigned. _My brothers and sisters, they're giving up on me_, Cas thought desperately as he fidgeted with the hem on his shirt. Normally he would have been in a complete panic at the thought being stuck here, lost in a world that didn't understand him. _But I'm not alone anymore. _He had to consider Dean, with his mischievous grin and endless bravado. Sam too, although Cas had only interacted with him briefly. He liked the younger boy's enthusiasm.

"Cas!"

He whipped his head around, snapped out of his musings by the desperation in Dean's tone.

"You look awful," Cas blurted out before he could stop and remember that A). People did not often appreciate that reminder and B). It usually meant that something was seriously wrong.

"Thanks," Dean growled sarcastically, but even Cas could tell that he was struggling as he ran a hand across his pale face. The harsh lighting combined with the shadows under his eyes made him look twenty years older. "The demon, it's got Sam," he whispered shakily, grimacing as if the words were scalding his throat. "Please, Cas you've gotta help me."

The vibrations were getting stronger and Cas tugged uncomfortably at his shirt. "What can I do, Dean? I already told, I don't remember anything, I don't have any residual power. I'm useless!"

"Well we can't just sit around with our thumbs up our asses. We can start by checking out City Hall. That's where I last heard from him."

"We?"

"Yeah, I'm bustin' you out. Let's go." Dean's voice was controlled and emotionless but Cas could see his hands shaking.

Cas' eyes widened. After all this time, night upon night of staring at the window, wishing the black sky would envelop him; he would finally be free.

"But how?" Cas' heart sank, "Nurses do rounds every half hour and we have to pass the nurse's starion to get downstairs."

"Trust me." Dean held out his hand, which Cas accepted hesitantly, like it might explode at any minute. The hope that was blossoming in his chest was too fragile to risk acknowledgement, as if believing he could actually escape would cause the whole plan to crash and burn.

"Five, four, three…" Dean was counting quietly under his breath, glancing anxiously at the door all the while. When he reached "one" a loud BANG echoed through the silent halls. Chaos erupted as patients awoke, some panicking, others pouring out eagerly into the corridors as they searched for the source of the noise. Dean took off towards the nurse's station, dragging a bewildered Cas along behind him. A light scent of smoke was beginning to fill the air. Cas heard startled yelps as the sprinklers turned on behind them. Dean ducked into the nearest room as two nurses rushed past, one armed with a fire extinguisher and the other a clipboard.

Once they had passed, Dean resumed his headlong dash, skidding along the slick linoleum as more sprinklers activated. The scream of the fire alarm pierced the night, covering the sounds of generalized pandemonium emanating from the ward. Down the stairs they raced, passed one worried looking doctor who never gave them a second glance, and out through the emergency exit in the first floor stairwell. Cas wanted to collapse and catch his breath, but Dean hauled him to his feet.

"C'mon man, just a little further. They're gonna notice we're gone any minute now."

"What did you-" Cas gasped out.

Dean grinned proudly, "Just a little homemade smokebomb, now let's _move._"

The pounding in Cas' chest had reached almost unbearable levels. He felt as if his whole entire body was vibrating from the force, but he knew Dean was right. Sirens were already wailing in the distance. He staggered on, clutching Dean's hand like a lifeline as the other boy guided him at a brisk pace to the nearest bus stop.

* * *

Cas groaned as he pressed his face against the cool surface of the bus window. Not only was his stomach protesting the vehicle's unfamiliar rocking motion but his head was swimming. He felt disembodied, like he might float away at any moment.

"Dude, are you alright? You're not going to puke on me, are you?" Dean anxiously shifted a little closer to the aisle.

Cas shook his head and attempted to sit up straighter. He wondered if Dean could hear the pulses wracking his body. Muffled voices were beginning to float in and out of his range of hearing, too vague to glean what they were saying. "I think we're getting closer. To my Grace."

Dean nodded, unsure. "M'sorry I can't help you with that one. Angels aren't really our thing. This is our stop by the way," he announced as the bus shuddered to a halt.

Cas rose carefully, trying not to let Dean see him shaking as the world spun around him. He barely registered the night air slapping him in the face or the rumbling grind as the bus pulled away behind him.

"Dean, I feel-" but before he could finish, his knees buckled and he collapsed on the hard ground.

* * *

_The earthen walls bore down on him, filling his nostrils with the subtle stink of damp and decay. The man was still chained to the wall, unconscious and bloody. There was someone else in the room this time. A small figure huddled against the wall, face buried in his arms so that only a mop of brown hair was visible. That scene suddenly dissolved, replaced by a stone lion statue with fiery red eyes. It sprang to life with a roar, with paws outstretched to devour him whole._

Dean's face, eyebrows knitted in concern, slowly swam into view. His mouth was moving but all Cas could hear was a loud ringing.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked again, shaking him roughly.

"I know where Sam is," Cas ground out, forcing himself back to his physical reality, "but we have to hurry. The demon is furious."

* * *

_Valefor cursed inwardly as he tossed aside Doctor Kyrtell's now lifeless body. A cursory glance at Cas' medical records had revealed that the angel was indeed a patient at the facility. "He's been hiding under my nose this whole time," the demon hissed softly to himself as he wiped the doctor's blood from his fingers. And he had apparently escaped, moments ago. The acrid scent of smoke still lingered in the halls. The Winchester boy had a hand in this, he was sure. Rage coursed through Valefor as he stalked past the nurse's station. Rachel lay curled on the desk, bits of bone and brain forming a macabre halo around her head. Her hands lay outstretched, reaching for the telephone. The demon tugged at the chain around his neck, from which dangled a dainty silver vial. He was going to end this tonight. _


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: **Another chapter complete! We're closing in on the end, folks. Thanks to all you wonderful people who've followed and/or reviewed! The feedback really keeps me going. Also a huge thank you to the Magnificent Mikey, who looks over nearly all of these chapters before I post them. This story would not have been the same without him.

* * *

The lion statues loomed ominously in the darkness and even Dean thought they were kinda creepy with the moonlight throwing their faint cracks into sharp relief, like veins underneath stone skin.

"Alright, Spaceboy. Where to?" Dean's voice reverberated coldly off the marble.

Cas walked over to one of the lions, eyes closed. He reached out with trembling fingers and began rubbing his hands along the statue's length.

"Can you hurry it up?" Dean paced back and forth across the steps. "Can't your magic angel sense crap tell us where they are? We don't have much time!"

"I am trying to concentrate," he snapped testily. "I can sense the demon's presence here… old… but I think I can-" he reached the front legs, tracing them down to the paws. Cas grasped a stone claw and tugged experimentally. Nothing.

"Uhh Cas?"

"Not now, Dean! I think I've almost discovered the secret."

The boy sighed peevishly, "See those big bushes on either side of the steps? Pretty good place to hide the entrance to your evil underground lair, don't you think?" He was gone before Cas could retort, shoving his way noisily through the greenery. Cas huffed, disgruntled, reminding himself that Dean must be worried about his family. He gave the lion one last glare before following.

* * *

Dean prowled the dank, musty corridors. Every muscle was spring-loaded with tension as he tried to let his hunting instincts take over. _Pretend it's just another job. Let your emotions get in the way and you're done for. Focus._ But images of his baby brother, lying battered and unconscious in the dirt haunted him. Dad knew how to take care of himself but Sammy? Hell he'd only just been allowed to participate in serious hunts, let alone face a demon singlehandedly. Dean swallowed, tightening his grip on the shotgun. He knew holy water would probably be a better first defense (and he did have a flask strapped to his waist) but the weight was comforting and familiar in his hand. Cas trailed behind him cautiously and Dean was painfully aware how unprotected he was.

"Look Cas," he muttered out of the side of his mouth, "if shit starts to hit the fan, you run okay? This is our problem. You don't need to die for any of us."

Cas opened his mouth as if to protest but Dean cut him off. "You don't owe me anything, got it? Now shut up and look for Sam. Where did your weird ass angel vision say he was?"

Cas shrugged, gesturing vaguely about the tunnel. "In some underground room made of earth. Bigger than this obviously. Does it branch off up ahead?"

"Dude it's practically pitch black in here, I can't see a damn thing. Your grace, it wouldn't happen to glow by any chance, would it? Because that would make things a hell of a lot easier," Dean snapped.

Cas reached out in the murky darkness and grabbed his hand. "We're going to find him, Dean. Alive. I swear."

Dean was startled by the gravity of Cas' tone. He took a moment to breathe through his nose, trying to slow his racing heart. _Calm down. Sammy's gotta be around here somewhere. Now think- you're a demon hiding underground with captives. What do you need? _His eyes snapped open. "Air! Cas, do you feel wind? A breeze? Anything like that? They have to breathe somehow!"

Cas' eyes widened in comprehension and the two boys stood still, hands reaching in front of them. After a few moments Dean felt a slight tickle on his palms. _Bingo. _

* * *

They moved forward in fits and starts, arms out like feelers as they searched for the fickle breeze. They followed it through the twisty corridors until finally Dean rounded a corner into and the narrow space opened up into a chamber. Moonlight shoe weakly down through a hole high up in the ceiling. Dean spied a small figure curled against the opposite wall, unmoving.

"Sam!" He cried out, momentarily forgetting the need for silence. He raced to his brother's side, cradling his is arms. Dean flinched when he felt the warm stickiness of half-dried blood smeared across Sam's face.

"C'mon Sammy," he whispered, shaking him gently. "C'mon wake up, please. We gotta get you out of here." He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the younger boy stir beneath him.

Sam groaned faintly. "Dean?"

"Yeah, it's me. Let's sit you up. Slowly, that's it. Do you think you can walk?"

To Dean's surprise, his brother burst into tears. " 'M so sorry. I-I told him. I told myself I wouldn't let him get to me but he was _in_ Dad and I shoulda known it was a trick but-" his entire body shook with emotion.

"Hey, hey don't worry about that now, okay? Let's hightail it back to the motel and you can tell me everything when we get there." At the moment Dean was more concerned with the large bump on Sam's head and the cuts and bruises on his face. That plus his brother's slightly disorganized and confused speech probably equaled a decent concussion. He grasped his brother's shoulders, trying to steady him. "Look at me, Sammy. Is the demon here?" The boy shook his head. "Alright, where's Dad?"

"He used to be here," Cas' voice floated over from Dean's right. He could barely make out his shape, squinting at something on the wall. Dean heard the faint clank of metal.

"Chains," Cas explained, "bloodied. He was here recently. I think Valefor moved him after he got what he wanted from Sam."

"So?" Dean hissed, angry at what Cas was implying. "He's just a kid dammit. It looks like he was tortured for Christ's sake."

Cas strode over, leaning down until his face was inches from Dean's. In the moonlight he was ethereally pale, his eyes almost black. Pearly beads of sweat stood out on his forehead. "It means that he knows we're after him. He knows what I am, Dean. He probably knows we're here, so we need to leave. Now. I can feel it…" Cas hugged his elbows tightly to his stomach.

"Feel what, Cas?" Dean asked cautiously.

"My grace. It's calling me. I can remember… Uhn!" He gasped sharply. "He's getting closer, we have to hurry!"

"Alright, up and at 'em Sammy," Dean hauled the boy to his feet as gently as possible; putting one arm over his shoulder while Cas grabbed the other. Sam hung limply between them, his head lolling in the crook of Dean's neck. Dean could feel him breathing softly. _We'll be back for you, Dad_. He knew in his heart that this is what his father would have wanted – Sam always came first, but leaving him behind tore at his heart. _We were so close…_

"Can you hear me Sam? You need to stay awake. Cas and I can't quite lug your giant ass out of here by ourselves." His brother moaned but he managed to lift his head. "That's it. One foot in front of the other." The strange procession slowly, agonizingly worked its way towards safety.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: **Happy Valentine's Day! My gift to you: a (slightly) early post and a box of virtual chocolates. Lots of love to Mikey for looking at this on short notice. This chapter is mostly Sam whumpage, so beware if you have a weak stomach/don't like needles!

* * *

"Okay Sammy, this is going to hurt like hell but I need you to hold still for me, alright?" The younger boy hissed and writhed as Dean splashed some of their father's Jack Daniels on Sam's cheek, but he was well pinned with his big brother straddling his torso, one knee placed firmly on each arm. Cas sat gingerly on his feet so he couldn't kick. Dean knew the alcohol was a pathetic, last-ditch attempt to clean out the wound but he had to do _something._ He also didn't like Sam's general dopiness, which hadn't improved since they'd brought him back to the motel. Truth be told, the kid needed a hospital but there was no way in hell he could make that happen right now. _At least the pain is keeping him awake_, Dean thought bitterly. Sam's cheek was still bleeding freely, starting to soak through the 4x4 gauze pad Dean had dug out of the first aid kit.

_Shit, he definitely needs stitches. _Dean swallowed and eyed the small white box that suddenly seemed very ominous. He's sewn up John a couple times, ragged uneven sutures that left horrible crooked scars on the man's bicep, and once on the top of his foot. Even John had cussed and drank his way through the agony. He looked as Sam, lying pale and sweaty on the bed. Dean pictured his twisted handiwork splayed like and ugly stain across his brother's face. _He could forget about being normal, that's for sure. _He'd have to make up some stupid story, another lie to weave into the fabrication that made up their existence in the civilian world_._ _I can't do this._

"Dean, just get it over with already. Please? I'm not stupid, I know I need stitches. I can take it, I promise." Sam squirmed underneath him, his eyes begging.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Dean exploded, hating how angry he sounded. _I'm not going to be like HIM. _He took a deep breath and started over, shifting his weight so Sam was no longer trapped. "Look Sammy, I've never done this before alright? Never to you, never to a face. If I screw up, you're going to have to live with it every day when you look in the mirror and I can't be responsible for that. I can't."

Sam thought about that for a moment before pursing his lips resolutely in that stubborn manner Dean was all too familiar with. "The longer it's open like this, the higher the chances it's going to get infected. Just- do it before I can change my mind. Besides, you always tell me chicks dig scars, right?" He tried to smile weakly but the movement made him wince and sent a fresh trail of blood trickling down his cheek.

Dean put his head in his hands. "I'm not joking, Sammy."

"Neither am I."

"Dean," Cas interjected, "we can't deny him medical attention any longer. Valefor will find us; it's only a matter of time."

* * *

_So maybe convincing Dean to stitch me up was a bad idea_ Sam thought as he watched with horror and fascination as his brother carefully drew out a length of catgut from the first-aid kit. The brown thread looked so much _rougher_ than Sam remembered and he struggled to suppress a shudder at the thought of it dragging through his skin. Dean didn't look so good himself, his face drained of color and sweat already beading at his brow. Sam fingered the shot glass filled with the remaining Jack. He grimaced, the taste of the previous three still thick on his tongue. His head was swimming enough already, but Dean had insisted that Sam be well liquored up to both take the edge off the pain and relax his muscles. _I don't see how Dean and Dad do this for fun_. Sam schooled his gag reflex and downed the shot in one go.

"You can still back out of this, you know. Last chance." Dean had assembled a small array of gauze, relatively clean washcloths and a basin of water.

"Nah, jus' get on with it. Hah like that one movie we saw, remember? With King Arthur and the goat guy?" Sam giggled. _How bad could it possibly be? I'm a Winchester after all, Winchesters are STRONG. Hey, maybe this whisky stuff isn't so bad. _

"Alright champ," Dean grimaced sarcastically as he firmly shoved Sam back down onto a towel he'd spread out in a valiant attempt to protect the bedsheets.

"Cas, tie his feet down. You're going to need to hold his head." The boy flinched slightly at the prospect, but did as he was told. Sam watched the proceedings with a sense of detachment; the world blurring and stretching around him. He wondered how much of that was due to the alcohol and how much was caused by the blow to his skull.

Dean gently turned Sam's face to the side. "Close your eyes," he whispered, fear permeating his voice. Sam felt Cas' hands clamp down under his jaw and across him temple. He tried to breathe steadily through his nose, trying to focus on something other than the panic welling within him.

His back arched as soon as he felt the hooked needle pierce through his skin. Sam bucked and thrashed, but Dean and Cas had a good hold on him. He was vaguely aware of Dean making shaky, soothing noises in the back of his throat but the fire that burned through his cheek blocked out all else. Sam felt the needle bite again, followed by the hot, unsettling sensation of the thread sliding through his skin, joining the edges together. A snipping sound by his ear indicated that Dean had finished his knot and was preparing for the second stitch. Sam moaned through clenched teeth, every muscle in his neck straining against Cas' grip. Another stab, more tugging. _This hell is never going to end._

* * *

Dean let out a sigh of relief when Sam went limp after the fifth stitch. At least now he didn't have to see the fear and pain in his brother's eyes or pin down his struggling limbs. He blocked out the emotions swirling hotly in his gut and zeroed in on the pragmatic flesh before him. Dean could take his time now that Sam wasn't twisting around underneath. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime of squinting and shaking and sweating, Dean secured the last knot. He stretched his back and cracked his aching neck as he gently took a washcloth and wiped the blood off his brother's face. Finally, Dean splashed a little more alcohol on the jagged row of stitches, brushed hair off of Sam's face and covered him with a blanket.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: **And now for something I'm sure you've all been waiting for ;D

Beta'd by the unflappable Mikey

Your reviews and support mean the world to me, thanks for reading!

* * *

Cas was drawn to the window again. Same position, different view. This time he saw a half-deserted parking lot filled with worn-out, tired cars and the door across the way, illuminated by a light that flickered approximately every six and a half seconds. Even the frame was different, with chipped and peeling paint, framed by sagging yellow curtains. Corny as it sounded, the stars remained the same, though tonight Cas though they seemed colder and more distant than usual. He heard Dean shut the bedroom door softly, so as not to wake Sam. The whole procedure had left Cas feeling drained and slightly sick. He had not been prepared for the onslaught of human emotion: the terror and pain and love. Some of Sam's blood had crusted on his hand.

"Any idea what Valefor's up to?" the color had not fully returned to Dean's face, but at least his voice was steady.

Cas shrugged without turning from the window. "He will find us here, Dean. And soon. We can't keep him out forever with the salt and devil's traps."

"So we're screwed, is that what you're saying?"

Cas' head snapped around at that, his eyes as icy as his tone. "I'm saying that we're trapped here, your brother is injured and Valefor still has your father and my grace hostage," he paused and continued in a gentler voice, "I just… Don't know how we're going to get out of this in one piece."

For a minute Dean looked like he was going to reply with his usual false bravado, but instead he sat down next to Cas, who was curled on the couch, and sighed.

"I don't either. I wish my dad was here, y'know? He'd send that demon packing in no time. The fact that Valefor even got the drop on him in the first place is ridiculous."

Cas nodded, scrunching up his face, "sometimes I wish my father were here to guide me as well."

"You mean, like, God? The man upstairs?"

"I suppose. If I truly am an angel."

Dean let out a long breath, "Wow. And I thought my dad was hard to figure out."

The two sat in silence for a while, staring out the window. Cas became cognizant of Dean's breath tickling the back of his neck. Ever so slowly, he leaned back until he could rest his head on Dean's shoulder. The boy shifted slightly but didn't jerk away.

"I like it here," Cas said simply.

"Really? Cuz uh, I know you don't have much experience with the outside world, but even you've got to see it's a shithole."

"It feels…" Cas paused, frowning in concentration as he tried to explain, "lived in. At the hospital everyone was always moving in and out, leaving. Everything was clean, but it wasn't yours. If you took all the people out, it would look the same. Here I can sense the connections between you and your brother and father. They leave impressions in the room."

"Damn, that's deep," Dean stifled a yawn.

"You're tired."

"Yeah dude, I've been up for- jeez I can't even remember how long. And the stitching and everything, I'm wiped out." Dean stretched and repositioned he shoulder so that Cas's head fit into the curve of his neck.

"Oh, that's right."

"Do you seriously not sleep at all?"

Cas shrugged, the motion sending a tiny shudder through Dean. "I guess I don't have too. I don't eat much either. They thought I was anorexic for a while, but in reality I just wasn't hungry."

"That must be nice," Dean murmured. "I'd be one hell of a hunter if I didn't have to sleep."

Cas' brow furrowed, "I don't know, it's rather lonely. No one else is around, the world is dark. I would just sit and think about home."

"I know what you mean," Dean muttered. "Dad being gone all the time, Sammy'd go to sleep and uh I'd try to stay up until he- Ahh nevermind. It's not important." He broke off with an exasperated wave of his hand.

"You're a very dutiful son, Dean." Cas turned to face him now, his eyes wide and serious. "I should try to do the same."

"The hell do you mean? You're the one who's all gung-ho angel. Even with all the doctors and everyone telling you you're crazy, you never gave up."

Cas shifted uncomfortably, "I'm having… second thoughts. The grace will change me, I can feel it. I don't know what I'll turn into once I get it back. What if I lose the memories I have now?" He fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "_I don't want to forget you,_" he finished in a whisper.

Dean suddenly became aware of a tightness in his gut, and blood flushed his cheeks. _I just want you to be happy, alright?_ Sam's words echoing in Dean's thought about his little brother who somehow managed to look after him every once in a while and his father, who was missing and unknowable as ever_. I know you're confused, and I know you're scared_… His heart was pounding in his ears. Dean reached over and stroked Cas' cheek with his thumb before leaning in and shakily brushing his lips against Cas'. The other boy's eyes flew open in surprise.

"Last night on Earth and all that," Dean mumbled, his eyes downcast once they broke their embrace. Visions of John bursting in with shotguns blazing flashed before his eyes, but Dean desperately pushed them away. _Sammy's right. I've done my part trying to keep this goddamn family together. Just let me have this one night. _

Cas lightly brushed his fingertips down Dean's side, sending a tremor rocking through him. "I'm glad I can spend it with you," he said shyly.

Dean couldn't help rolling his eyes before shoving Cas back deep into the couch cushions, leaning into him with his whole body. "Dude, you are so corny."

* * *

_Even at night, the motel is awfully noisy_, Cas mused. There was an assortment of creaks and clangs that Cas supposed one must expect from an old, run-down building; but he also heard an odd rhythmic squeaking emanating from the room above and earlier a fight somewhere down the corridor with loud, drunken voices and the thump of what may have been a shoe against the wall. Neither Dean nor Sam had stirred through any of it. He'd checked on Sam after Dean had drifted off, snoring gently against the armrest. The younger boy looked rather pale but his breathing was steady and unlabored. Now he sat gingerly on the section of couch not occupied by Dean's sprawling form, keeping a silent vigil over the young hunters.

Cas felt something stir within him, a familiar humming inside his chest that was fast evolving into a fierce, staccato hammering. His head jerked towards the window. A man stood across the parking lot, his face cloaked in shadow. He drew something out of his pocket, the movement rendered eerily disjointed by the flickering light above one of the motel doors. A small glass vial swung from a chain. Cas felt the air leave his lungs. _My grace. _He knew instinctively and he could feel that every cell in his body was reaching out, desperate for the power he could sense radiating from the vial. The demon stood stock-still, dangling the chain carelessly from his palm. He gave it a teasing swing. The meaning was clear: _come and get it. _


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: **Mid-terms are hell. You guys are great! R&R and I will love you forever :)

* * *

Someone was pounding on the door. Or maybe that was just his head. Sam grimaced but then instantly regretted the motion, as it sent fire racing through his cheek. Eyes still closed, he reached up a hand, his fingers hovering just above the puckered surface of his skin, but then thought the better of it. Half-remembered nightmares swirled, flashes of blood and smoke and fire. The pounding would not abate. "Dean?" he croaked, realizing for the first time how dry his mouth was. "Dean?!" He tried louder, "get the door." No one answered and the steady drumming continued, getting louder and more urgent. Sam sighed and finally cracked his eyes open, grateful for the darkness of the room. He carefully propped himself up on one elbow. His head spun, his cheek burned and his tongue cried out for water, but Sam figured he'd survive. Cautiously, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and crept into the living area. Dean was draped over the couch, utterly dead to the world. And Cas… The pounding grew to an even more frantic crescendo. Sam twitched the curtains aside to reveal the boy standing wide-eyed on the steps. He unlocked the door and yanked it open; wincing as the salt line broke, scraping against the floor.

"What were you doing out there?" Sam asked.

"I thought I saw something," Cas muttered as he stepped over the threshold, taking care to avoid the scattered salt. "How are you feeling?"

Sam shrugged, "Dizzy. Shaky. What you'd expect I guess." He clutched his head, "I think I'm gonna sit down, actually. Do you want a drink or anything?"

Cas nodded jerkily. "You might want to fix that first," he said pointing to the ruptured line.

Sam groaned inwardly. All he wanted to do was nurse his aching head, maybe wake Dean up and see if they had any painkillers left. As he bent down to adjust the salt, he noticed something stir through the open doorway. Sam squinted, there was a figure lying prone on the asphalt. No, it was _crawling_, one trembling bloody hand outreached to pull itself forward another inch. Trepidation settled heavily in Sam's stomach, his fingers twisting unconsciously. The figure lifted its head just for a moment; its mouth opened in a groan, framed by swollen purple cheeks. _Impossible_ Sam thought, vaguely noting a quiet chuckle from behind him before he was grasped by the scruff of the neck and hurled bodily from the room. The asphalt rushed up to greet him with a concrete kiss.

* * *

_Something's wrong_, even as his body slowly swam back into wakefulness, Dean could sense it. The air seemed to crackle with energy. _It's so cold…_ "Sam?" He hollered into the blackness. _Did Cas turn all the lights out? _

"Sammy's not here right now." The voice was familiar, but distorted. The words dripped off his tongue in a lazy drawl, turning Cas' comforting rasp into a growl that clawed at Dean's insides.

"Oh God no."

Cas, or rather, the thing that was in Cas, sighed. "At the risk of sounding cliché, God has nothing to do with this." Dean felt it grab his shoulder roughly, hauling him to his feet and spinning him around. Dean stared resolutely at the floor. _I won't look at his face. _He knew what he would find there; eyes glazed over black, lips curled up into a smirk. Everything that Cas had ever mean to him would be gone. And Dean knew that would break him.

"You and I have some unfinished business, now don't we?" The thing was still talking. Dean felt hands close around his neck, lifting him into the air until only the tips of his sneakers brushed the carpet.

Cas' head shook back and forth like a dog, but the creature held sway, chuckling, "he's really kicking in here you know. Imagine, a demon possessing an angel's vessel. No easy task, I assure you. We are…naturally opposed," the corners of his mouth twitched down into a grimace. "But once I bring this downstairs," he jerked his chin down to a vial hanging from a chain, "I can ditch this slimy holy meatsuit. And you can bet your Bible I'll be well rewarded."

_Cas's grace..._Dean's vision was slowly narrowing as blackness closed in. Desperately, he kicked his feet out, trying to gain better purchase. The hands clamped around his neck were made of iron, tightening inexorably as he struggled to breathe.

"He's watching right now," Valefor hissed, "I made sure he got front row seats." The words buzzed in Deans ears, barely registering in his oxygen-starved brain. He couldn't even manage a grunt of anger. _I'm sorry Cas, I'm sorry you have to see this. I'm just too weak. It's all my fault. Fell asleep and didn't watch your sorry ass, Sammy… Cas… _His thoughts slid sideways out from under him as a rush of disjointed colors and voices swept Dean away.

* * *

His knees and palms hurt. Something tugging his shoulder. Far off howling.

"Dean!" _Go away, I'm dying. _

A muffled "Damnit," then he was being dragged. "Dean, snap out of it, come on!" A harsh, resounding slapped helped to chase away the fog that permeated his brain. _Sam. _His little brother was yanking under his arms, desperately trying to get him vertical. _The awful screeching in the background?_ _Cas. No, not anymore. Valefor. _

Sam was shouting now too, desperate Latin tumbling out of his lips, but the flask filled with what would only be holy water was almost empty.

"You little shit!" Valefor screamed, one hand clawing at his eyes while the other groped blindly for the brothers.

Dean coughed viciously; his throat felt like it was full of broken glass. The rest of his body didn't seem to want to cooperate either. His eyes slid in and out of focus and he could barely stand, leaning a majority of his weight onto Sam. _The grace, I have to… _He ducked clumsily under Valefor's flailing arm.

He tried to tell Sam to keep it up with the holy water, but all that came out was an unintelligible croak. Still, Sam seemed to understand, for he renewed his efforts. Dean stayed low in a crouch, rising fluidly when he was inches from the demon, all thought focused on maintaining his balance. His fingers closed around the vial, which fluttered faintly against his hand. _It's alive… _

"Dean, I'm out!" Came Sam's panicked yelp.

Valefor rubbed a hand over his still-smoking face, nostrils flaring as he snatched Dean's wrist. "You-" he spat, but before he could answer, Dean dropped the vial to the ground, said a silent prayer, and stomped down hard.

White light burst forth instantaneously, and with it came a pulse strong enough to knock Dean and Sam back onto the couch. Valefor/Cas cried out, and black smoke erupted from every pore, dissipating as soon as it touched the light. Cas stood breathing heavily. For a moment, recognition and penetrating sadness swept over his face when he saw Dean, but then he too was swallowed by the light. Cas writhed and pulsed as the grace flowed into him. He seemed to swell, a towering, glowing figure that emanated a heat so strong Dean could feel his lips blister. He looked away, and for one terrible moment he though the entire motel was going to combust, but with one final, piercing cry, Cas shuddered and lay still.

* * *

Dean opened his eyes and glanced around the room, incredulous that he was in one piece. The windows were all busted though, and it was only then that he realized all he could hear was a ringing in his ears. Sammy was curled in a bloody ball, wincing against the headrest. And Cas… Dean whirled around, terrified that all he would find would be a charred lump of what used to be his friend. Instead the boy stood before him, flexing his fingers slowly, as if readjusting himself to his own body.

"Cas…?" Dean whispered, "Are you in there?"_ No he's not,_ Dean realized with a sinking feeling, as Cas stared back with unblinking eyes as flat and unruffled as a lake on a windless day.

The creature tilted his head, "My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord."


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note: **This is it. The final chapter (squeeeal). I know, I know, it's late BUT I was waiting on Mikey, who was busy with mid-terms. He wins all of the awards for putting up with me and providing thoughtful and helpful critique throughout the story. Finally l must thank YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for reading/following/reviewing/favoriting. I don't think I could have gotten as far as I did without your lovely support.

Oscar speech over, prepare for the feels!

* * *

Dean gaped openmouthed at the figure before him. Cas, or rather, _Castiel _smiled benevolently back. Cas' typical slumped, round- shouldered posture had been replaced by a straight, firm stance; his spine magically uncurled. Despite the white aura that was still slowly dissipating around him, Cas' eyes were flat, cold and slightly vacant. Dean swallowed convulsively and moved in front of the sofa on instinct, shielding Sam from the angel.

"I won't harm you or your brother," Castiel reached out a hand but Dean flinched back, his mind still working in fits and stops. _So cold..._

The angel made a low humming sound in the back of his throat, as if perplexed by the boy's behavior. "Very well. I must leave you, for now. I am forbidden to interfere anymore."

"Wait!" Dean cried "My dad-" but a loud fluttering noise interrupted his plea and the angel vanished in an instant.

_He's forgotten everything. He's gone home now for good. Probably best if he didn't remember the shitty time he had here anyways. But I'm never going to see him again. _Pain clawed at Dean's heart, but he forced himself to turn to Sam, shaking him gently awake. _Never would have meant anything anyways. We were leaving. We always leave. They always leave. _

He breathed a sigh of relief when Sam stirred beneath his fingers.

"Dad," the younger boy gasped out.

Dean took a deep breath, willing himself into stone. "Not here, Sammy. Demon's dead though. He could be anywhere."

"In the parking lot," Sam grasped the front of Dean's shirt urgently, "I saw-" his eyes fluttered closed.

Dean raced out the door, not daring to hope, not daring to breathe. _Oh God, that can't be him,_ Dean though numbly, staring at the crumpled, bloody form that was collapsed on the pavement. One arm still stretched towards their room, as if John had been reaching out to his boys.

"Dad!" Dean called out as he knelt by his father's head. He jammed two fingers into his neck and weakened with relief when he felt a pulse. _Too faint, thready. He's breathing but barely. _

"It's gonna be okay," Dean addressed the unconscious man, trying to keep his voice level. He raced back into the motel and within minutes the walls were bathed in the eerie red-and-blue glow of an ambulance.

* * *

Dean sat in silence, counting ceiling tiles, flecks on the floor, hot nurses, anything to keep his mind occupied as his ass slowly fused with the hard plastic chair. People came and went around him, blurring into a meaningless stream of motion and sound.

"Dean," Sam was tugging at his arm. _They finally let him_ cheek was freshly bandaged and his wrist was nestled in a splint. "The doctor wants to talk to you," he looked furtively over his shoulder and dropped his voice to a whisper, "What are we gonna tell them?"

Dean sighed, running his hands distractedly through his hair. "Uhhh I guess that some crazies tried to break into our room and we fought them off." Dean scrambled desperately for a better idea; a story filled with just enough detail to make it plausible, but not so much to raise suspicion. He felt like he was scratching at a white wall. Sam was looking at him with raised eyebrows. _Great. Even my little brother doesn't think they'll buy it. _Truth be told, Dean's head was simply too full of questions and worries about his father, angels, and demons to process yet another layer of complication.

Sam was pulling on his sleeve again. "C'mon Dean, they want to talk to you _now_."

_How come hospitals are so damn cold all the time?_ Dean wondered as he rubbed his bare arms briskly in an attempt to ward off the chill permeating the air. He felt naked without a jacket on. The room was small and white, with blinds on the windows. _All the better to shield grieving families from the harsh world out there_, Dean thought sarcastically. _Hell, they've even got blinds on the door. _Dean swallowed the growing lump in his throat. He was beginning to feel awfully closed-in. The figures facing him on the other side of the table weren't helping. _Is this a frickin' interrogation? _

"What's wrong with my dad?" Dean spat out, a little angrier than he intended. The man sighed heavily, flipping through his charts as he motioned for Dean to take a seat, but the woman sitting next to him gave Dean a sympathetic smile. _Shit._ Dean gripped the back of the chair hard enough to turn his knuckles white but he refused to pull it out.

"Well," the man began, rubbing his temples. Dean wondered if he'd gotten any sleep in the past twenty-four hours. _Probably not, judging by his greasy hair._ "Your father's suffered some pretty severe trauma. Massive blood loss, both internal and external. He's stable for now, but we're not sure when he's going to wake up…" The man's lips continued to move, but all Dean could hear was a loud roaring sound. _No. He's practically invincible, dammit. One piddly little demon couldn't have… _But then he remembered the blood, black in the moonlight, spreading slowly across the parking lot and had to close his eyes to avoid being sick.

"It's going to be alright, honey. We're going to make arrangements for you and your brother while your dad is in the hospital." The woman laid a comforting hand on his arm, still wearing that small, sad smile. Dean jerked back and fought the sudden urge to slam her dumb head into the table.

"What the hell do you mean 'arrangements'?" Dean's voice was strained, his breath coming fast and hot, like he'd explode if he didn't blow off enough steam.

The woman raised the arms, palms flat in a placating gesture. "Calm down, I'm here to help you. Dean, right?" He jerked a nod. "Both you and Sam are underage. You need someone to care for you while your father is in the hospital. Now, the records show that you have no extended family…"

Realization was begging to dawn on Dean. "No! You- you can't do this to us. I'll be eighteen in a few months. I can take care of my kid brother; I've been doing it all my life!"

But the woman, _fucking social worker, _plowed on. "I think foster care would be the best option at this point. There are plenty of area families, so you and Sam could visit you father; and each other if we can't find someone to take you both. If your father gets better-"

_If. _Dean swatted the chair aside, taking slight pleasure in watching the social worker and the doctor flinch as it crashed into the wall. "OVER MY DEAD BODY. There's no fucking way you creeps are going to get your hands on Sammy. I _swore _I'd protect him, okay?" Tears were streaming down his face now. "You can't do this. MY DAD IS GONNA GET BETTER AND IF HE FINDS OUT YOU SPLIT US UP HE'LL HUNT YOUR ASSES DOWN." Dean bolted for the door. He heard someone rise behind him, so he slammed it as hard as he could and took off down the hallway, opposite the way he came. He couldn't face Sam.

* * *

The hospital was mercifully empty at night. Only a few bored-looking nurses and a night janitor saw Dean Winchester bawling like a baby as he tore through the white-tiled passages. He had no idea where he was going, but he had to go _somewhere. _And fast.

Dean finally stopped, panting. A flash of color had caught his eye. _Stained glass. Wouldya look at that. Destiny brought me to the fucking chapel. How cute. _Dean leaned back against the wall, a hysterical edge to his laughter. _Why the hell not? It's not like I've got anything else left to lose. _He pushed the door open and entered into the dimly lit space. The first thing Dean noticed was the hush. The sound of sneakers squeaking, beeping monitors and muted conversation had all been background noise, but with that taken away Dean was left with his pounding heart and ragged breathing. _Kinda creepy actually. _He padded down the red-carpeted aisle, trying to ignore the sensation that he was desecrating the holy space just be being there. _What am I supposed to do anyways? This is stupid. _But then he thought of Cas. Not the souped-up angel, but the boy. The boy who'd snuck into his heart before he knew what was happening. The boy who didn't sleep, who watched the stars instead. The boy who stood too close and sometimes didn't get his jokes. The boy who wouldn't let him go.

_Guess we're both in some pretty deep shit now, huh Cas? I mean, can you even hear me? Do you exist anymore or did that grace stuff fry your hardwire? _Dean chuckled to himself, picturing Cas screwing up his face in confusion. _You probably don't even know what that means. _ "Anyways," Dean found himself whispering into the empty chapel. It just felt _right _somehow. "I-I was wondering," he drew a long, shuddering breath, "if you could help me out. If you still remember, y'know? Dad, he's uh pretty mess up and the guys at the hospital-" Dean scrubbed his eyes furiously. "They want to put me and Sam in foster care. Separate us, even. I can't let that happen, you understand? Please, if you can hear me, just- You know I'd do anything for Sammy right?"

"Is that so?" Came a drawling voice behind him

* * *

Dean nearly jumped out of his skin. He'd been so focused that he hadn't heard anyone approach. The man leaned casually against the doorframe. Everything about him screamed "businessman," from his suit and tie to his balding pate.

"Oh, sorry," Dean leapt up as if he's sat on a porcupine. "If you wanted to pray, or whatever, I was about to go…"

The businessman actually laughed "Oh no, boy. Quite the opposite." _British businessman then. And what the hell is he talking about?"_

He continued, "Hospitals are great places for what I do. So many desperate people. And you, my friend, are the finest specimen I've seen in a long time."

"Whaaa?"

"Oh come on, Sonny. I know who your daddy is. I'm sure he's warned you about the likes of me. Still," he glanced around casually, "Daddy's not exactly on his game at the moment. And Sammy," he shook his head sadly, "what a shame. Imagine, the Winchester boys, thrown to the wind. So whaddya say, want to make a deal?"

_Crossroads demon. One wish for your soul. _John had drilled his boys over and over again on the dangers, not to mention the sheer idiocy, of selling one's soul. Dean could hear him in the back if his head. _These guys are tricky sons-a-bitches. Salesmen of the worst kind. They'll promise you the moon, but they always find some way to weasel out, cheat ya faster than you can blink. And your soul is NEVER something you should gamble on. _

The man seemed to sense the boy's hesitation. He crossed his arms and looked Dean dead in the eye. "Not like you have much of a choice, mate."

Dean hung his head. He cast one fleeting look back at the images of angels soaring on the chapel ceiling before trudging towards the door.

"Atta boy," the demon grinned. "And what can I do for you today? Name's Crowley."

* * *

Sam fidgeted in his seat. A whole _hour _had passed with no sign of Dean. _What if Dad really is in serious trouble? _Sam was about to go searching for him, when his older brother made his appearance.

"Jesus, Dean! What did they say? You've been gone forever! Are you okay?" The questions came pouring out before he could stop himself. Sam noted the dark circles under Dean's eyes. He was so pale his freckles stuck out like tiny pinpricks on his face.

"'M'fine," Dean mumbled. "Let's go see dad." He grabbed Sam's hand, the one free of the sling. Sam almost pulled away with some complaint about how he wasn't five years old and could walk by himself, but he saw the pain and worry in Dean's eyes. Besides, he'd been through so much in the past couple days; it was nice to have his big brother around to protect him again.

* * *

John grinned tiredly at his boys from his hospital bed. Vestiges of dried blood still clung to his nose and upper lip, but his wounds already showed signs of healing.

"Hey," he croaked out, raising his hand is a half-salute, "looks like the sonofabitch couldn't get the drop on you, huh?"

Sam let go of Dean's hand and ran to him like he was a little kid, all the frustration between father and son forgotten for the moment. Dean hung back, watching the scene, letting Sammy's chatter flood over him. Sure, in ten years he would literally have hell to pay, but for now they could be a family again. And that was enough.

END.

_Sequel?_


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